The Occupation
by I.wish.I.could.be.Number.Five
Summary: 13 years ago the Mogadorians attacked our planet, Lorien, and destroyed our resistance. That was how the Great Occupation begun. To show their strength, a set of games are held every year: Us against them. The mogs always win…and the children always die. But this year is different. I'm going to take my revenge. I am Maren Elizabeth and this is my planet. My time has come.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I don't own Lorien Legacies or the Hunger Games (of which this story has links with)**

**Hi guys!**

**So here it is, the new story. This is the prologue and will basically describe the story. Sorry I've been absent for a while, a lot longer than I said I would be.**

**Since I am so busy at the moment, I'm going to be updating this story every two weeks. I know that's quite a long gap between updates but it really is the best I can do. I love this story and this fandom but this is the most important year of my life so this will have to take a back seat.**

**So I will update on a Saturday every two weeks and that's a promise!**

**Please read on.**

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Prologue

Third POV

The arena is crammed full, a cold wind sweeping through the huge expanse. Despite the huge crowds present here today, it's deadly silent. So silent that a penny could drop and you'd hear it.

They're all waiting for the ceremony to begin.

The arena is a circular stadium and separated into two semicircles. A low but thick concrete wall with a barbed wire fence on top separates the two sections. In the middle of the whole arena is a huge stage in the middle, a screen levitated in the middle. On both sides of the screen so that the whole audience can see is a symbol.

The seal of the Capital. The seal of the Mogadorians.

There are thousands upon thousands of occupants here, separated in their correct system. One half of the arena is dressed well: bright colours and expensive furs and gaudy clothes. These are the Mogadorian citizens, waiting eagerly for the Calling to begin.

The second half is significantly different. They're dressed in thin and almost ragged clothes. Many are dirty and practically all look underfed. The mothers have tears streaked down their faces as they clutch their youngest children whilst the fathers hide their pain behind their emotionless faces. The children eligible for the Calling wait nervously, separated from their parents.

These are the Loric. They've lived 13 terrible years in the Mogadorian Occupation.

Around the whole arena are the Soldiers. These are Mogadorian warriors, wearing long, black trench coats and clutching their cannons. They're ready for a disturbance in the Loric crowd and they're not afraid to shoot.

It wouldn't be the first time a Loric has been killed at the Calling.

There's a rustling in the Mogadorian civilian's side and then suddenly a huge cheer erupts in the arena as a monster steps onto the stage. With filthy blond hair, staggering height and a terrible face, this is the recognisable figure of the Mogadorian leader, Setrakus Ra.

The national anthem blares and the Mogadorians voices rise high in pride and arrogance. The Loric's lips also move with the words but not through loyalty but because they have no other choice.

The anthem stops and the crowd cheer, waiting for their Beloved Leader to speak. When he does, the voice is so terrible many of the younger Loric children hide closer into their mothers' arms, terrified beyond words. The voice is filled with cruelty and hatred and malice.

It's the voice of a dictator…a murderer.

"Today is the day we have all been waiting for!" the leader ends his glorious speech and the mogs roar in approval. "Today is the day when we choose our next Tributes!"

The mogs are ecstatic, jeering at the Loric as well as cheering their Beloved Leader. He's grinning a wild, triumphant grin as he approaches a round bowl, filled with slips of paper.

Names of Loric children.

The Funeral Games happen every year. 30 Loric are selected and thrown into three terrible rounds for which they have to fight to survive. 30 Mogadorians volunteer themselves for their task to fight and kill the Loric.

All Loric involved are between 10-18 years old. There have been a few Loric survivors over the past years and even though they're allowed to go back to ordinary lives, they're never the same again. You can never recover from the Games.

The leader approaches the bowl, grinning at the crowds' evident tension: the Loric's fear and the Mogs' elation. He rummages in the bowl and then catches a slip of paper, pulling it out and waiting for complete silence. He goes back to the centre of the stage and then finally, _finally_ announces a name.

The crowd goes wild as the first child to be picked is sent down to the seats saved for the Tributes. The boy chosen is almost faint with fear but he manages to make it, waiting to see who else will be chosen.

Half an hour later and all the children have been chosen. They stand; all terrified and all hopeless as they look at the mogs they will have no chance of defeating.

"Let the Games begin!" Setrakus Ra announces from his place on the stage. "And let the odds be _ever_ in your favour"

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**So, next chapter will be up sometime next week since this was a short chapter. Hope you enjoyed and understood the concept, if not just PM me or ask something in a review.**

**Please review!**


	2. Chapter 1 - The Day Before

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hunger Games or Lorien legacies, no matter how much I wish I did…**

**Hi guys!**

**Thank you all so much for the huge amount of reviews I got as well as the PMs :D I'm really glad you like the sound of my story as well as being very patient with my longer updates. However, I've aimed to make the chapters longer to make up for the long wait.**

**So, please read on…it might take some time since this chapter is about 6500 words…**

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Chapter 1 – The Day Before

A year later

**John**

They tell me that there always used to be sun on Lorien. That there was a gentle wind and it was always warm and sunny. That bad weather was virtually unknown and rain hadn't even been a word.

It's always grey on Lorien now.

I trudge through the mud, which clings to my worn boots. I shoulder my bag again, annoyed that it's slipping down my arm once more, despite the numerous times I've tried to hold it in place. The rain is only a light patter today but my hair is still soaking wet and clinging to my head. I'm shivering from the cold.

No one's around this morning but I'm not surprised. Most Loric will be inside, spending their potential last hours with their child. Once the names have been called out tomorrow, the 'tributes' as they so cruelly name those children, will be whisked away.

All of the Loric that are taken are never here seen again. They're seen dying their last moments on TV screens around the whole of Lorien. The few that survive are supposed to be allowed to go home but everybody knows they're kept locked up in the Capital where they can't cause trouble.

Every year, the Mogadorians hold an event called the Funeral Games. 30 Loric and 30 mogs are chosen and then put through three fights or 'Rounds'. Round 1 is an arena, where it's a survival game for two weeks. The mogs group together and hunt out the Loric in their massive pack. Loric are allowed one ally only.

Round 2 are gladiatorial fights in stadiums. This features the survivors from Round 1 and usually there are a maximum of 16 Loric and 28 Mogs. Like I said, things are unfair.

And finally, Round 3 is apparently the most exciting. The remaining candidates are forced into two groups and fight for an hour. Loric versus Mogs. It's very rare for a few Loric to win this round but they have to survive for an hour and then they're safe. A few have managed to do that.

The worst thing though, is that the Loric taken are between 10-18. But there's no age limit for the mogs.

Oh and did I say the whole thing is televised?

"John!" I look up and grin when I see my best friend, Thom, running towards me. Like me, he's blonde and blue-eyed, but he's shorter than me. His clothes are as ragged as mine but he's grinning.

"Look what I got!" he holds up a freshly baked cupcake and I gape. Luxuries like that are hard to come by nowadays for Loric. The mogs get them whenever they like but if we want one we'd have to save for months. And in the end it's just not worth it.

"How the hell did you get that?!" I demand, thinking of ways to get my own. There could be a sale on, after all this is the time of year when people feel most generous. Thom grins as he takes a bite, offering me some. I gladly take a bit and then moan as I taste it. I haven't had something like this in so long.

"I stole it" he grins cheekily at me. I stare at him stunned and then my head whips around, making sure no one else is here.

"Eat that! Now!" I hiss. If someone sees us with this, we'll get a whipping for sure, maybe even death. Punishments are harsh for the Loric, non-existent for the mogs. Thom rolls his eyes but quickly stuffs it in his mouth, chewing and swallowing quickly.

"You dressing up for tomorrow?" Thom changes the subject, a cheeky grin on his face. I don't know how he remains so positive all the time but it's nice. Compared to my grandparent's depression, it's a refreshing change.

"Course not. There's not much point" I snort, buttoning my worn coat up. The rain's picking up and I want to get home soon. Thom looks around thoughtfully, his hair sticking to his scalp.

"I am… if I'm gonna get picked, I might as well do it in style" he muses. I bite my lip to stop myself from saying that he'll be seen as a toy by the mogs, not a fashion icon. But I don't say anything because there's no point upsetting my best friend.

"You won't… what are the chances after all" I try to say brightly. Thom shrugs as he looks around at the dark street and the grey clouds.

"Yeah, yeah I know. They'll choose from all over Lorien, not just this dung heap" he kicks a stray can on the street and we both flinch at the clanging sound. It's too much noise in such a deserted place.

"I wonder if we'll know anyone getting picked" I muse, stuffing my hands in my pockets. Thom looks down sullenly, his face filled with grief. He knew one of last year's volunteers. It was his next-door neighbour and even though they weren't that close, it still hurt.

"Probably… after all, 30 kids will be taken to the slaughter house" that's what he calls the arena. Once you're in the arena, there's no way you can come out until the two weeks are up. It's a huge expanse of nature but the barriers of sickly blue light are impossible to penetrate.

Last year the arena was a desert and we watched the Loric fight for water. The year before, it was a jungle and then the year before that it was ice tundra. No one knows what it is this year.

Probably something just as bad as the other years.

"Look, John?" Thom suddenly pauses, his face turning serious as he watches me. I stop smiling as well, knowing he's about to say something important.

"Yeah?" I ask, patting his shoulder. He sighs and then grips my hand tight.

"If I'm chosen tomorrow…. Promise you won't forget me" he whispers. I shake my head at once, rejecting the thought of what he just said. The thought of him being picked fills me with too much pain.

"You won't get chosen" I say determined, my face fierce. "You won't"

He sighs sadly and then smiles, trying to be brave. We've stopped by my house and I can see my grandmother peering in through the curtains. Probably wants to make sure I'm alive. Suicide is common around here, especially this time of the year.

"Well, see you tomorrow" I sigh sadly as I reach my house, clapping his shoulder. He smiles grimly at me, fear in his eyes.

"Take a bath!" he calls as he walks off, whistling to himself. I smile grimly, entering my house.

It's not much, with two bedrooms, a kitchen and a tiny bathroom but it's home. It's where I've spent my whole life and I love it all the same. I love the creaky bed and dodgy hob and faulty shower. It's home.

"Hey Grandma!" I call as I pull my coat off, hanging it on the hook by the door. My grandma looks up, smiling sadly when she sees me. Every year, she and Grandpa go into a misery before the Calling. She worries that I'll go and there's nothing worse than being helpless at home.

"Hello John" she replies in her soft voice. I smile as I go over and kiss her cheek, eying up dinner.

"Looks good" I say, my mouth watering at the meat in the stew. It's not often we get this much food; the traders must have been in a kinder mood today. She smiles sadly as she stirs the pot, looking away.

"You used to get better. You used to get eggs for breakfast and sandwiches for lunch and still have room for a big dinner" she muses, probably thinking of the days when I was a one year old and the Occupation was a year away. I shrug weakly as I pull off my boots.

"Doesn't matter. I'm still hungry and that looks great" I manage to be optimistic. I go over to my school bag, pulling out my maths book as I make a start on my homework. If I'm not chosen tomorrow, I'm going to be in trouble for not doing my maths exercises.

My grandma sighs as she continues to stir the pot, her face growing dark with every passing second. I go over to the window, looking outside. I wonder what it would be like on a Lorien without mogs, without the Games hanging over your childhood. I wonder what it would be like if mastering your legacies were your greatest problem.

I shake those thoughts off, going back to my homework.

After all, that Lorien won't ever exist again.

Xxx

**Marina**

"You useless brat!"

The smack of the paddle, shortly followed by a scream snaps me out of my daydream. I shake my head as I focus back on polishing the silver I front of me, making sure there aren't any marks left on the already spotless cutlery.

"Wonder what she did today" Megan whispers next to me, doing the same chore as me. We share a tired smile, and then hastily carry on with our chores as the door opens and Sister Dora marches through. She glares at us all before sitting down on her chair, observing us.

The orphanage of Santa Teresa is perhaps the most depressing place on Lorien, which is saying a lot considering the state of the planet now. The Sisters are all mogs of course and they all hate us Loric girls. Any excuse to punish us is welcomed and all of us have been punished at least once a month.

Fortunately for me, after 14 years at this place, I've become a model orphan in their eyes. I was one of the first to be taken in here after my parents' death in the War. They were killed by the first wave of mogs and even though I miss them every day, I'm proud of them. Knowing they died fighting for Lorien is worth the pain of this place.

Megan's hand slips as she cleans a fork and the piece of cutlery clatters to the floor before she can catch it. Sister Dora beams in happiness as she stands up, the paddle in her hand. Megan pales at once, knowing what's coming.

"Leave us Marina. Go to your room." Sister Dora says. I want to stay with Megan but I know if we swapped roles, she'd scamper out of here without a second glance. That's how it is here; you look after yourself and everyone else can go to hell.

I bow to Sister Dora and then leave, already dreading the sounds of punishment that are sure to come. I shut the door firmly before scampering away, not missing the first crack of the paddle. I press my hands over my ears to miss the scream that's sure to follow.

I hate it here. It's like hell on Lorien and I know I only have the mogs to blame. Before the Occupation, places like this would have been destroyed. They wouldn't have existed in the first place.

I go to my small, cell-like room. It's cold and damp but private. It's where I can be me. I draw here, pictures of Lorien before the Occupation, before this hell. But I burn them afterwards, knowing they would only spark punishment and maybe even death for being a traitor.

I go to my window, propping my elbows on the windowsill. It's raining outside, splattering against the glass. I can see some girls outside, doing the gardening despite the foul weather. I turn away from the window, disgusted by the sight of Sister Dora prowling through the gardens. She's done already with Megan. Now she's looking for her next victim.

I sit down on my bed, focusing on my telekinesis to bring my sketchpad over to me. I was able to buy it with the short change I was given once by some friends down in the town. They take pity on us girls up here, especially me, who tries so hard to be their friend.

I don't have many pages left. On the ones I have, there are drawings of the girls here: little Tabitha, Gabby, Delphina… There are also drawings of the orphanage itself but that was to pacify the Sisters when they checked on my work. They want to make sure I'm not being influenced against the mogs by anything.

I dig under my mattress for my favourite drawing. It's of a woman with black hair and grey eyes. She's fierce and is wielding a sword, her teeth bared. She looks determined and like she's ready to fight, ready to destroy her enemy. I've always imagined it to be my mother after I dreamed of her once, dreamed of her fighting the mogs to save me.

I put the paper down, looking around my bare room. I know that some of the other Loric children have slightly better lives since they can live with family and aren't punished all the time. But unlike most Loric children, I have enough food and better clothes than most, even if I do get strict rules and punishment. And to me, that's a price I'm willing to pay.

I've seen the kids lying on the streets, begging for food. I've seen the emaciated cats and dogs, whining weakly as they paw at piles of rubbish, desperate for food. There's nothing worse than seeing a child starving to death when there's nothing you can do.

I'm distracted from my thinking by a gust of wind coming through the open window. I go to shut it at once, but it's stuck and refuses to budge. I draw a thin blanket around me, shivering, as I watch the wind blow the dark blue dress I'm going to wear tomorrow for the Calling. I was surprised when the Sisters gave it to me but I have the feeling that they want to show off the orphans under their care.

I'm terrified about tomorrow. Once you're picked, you have to go and live with a Mentor Cepan for a year to train and prepare for the Games. Once the year's up, you're ready to go into the Games. The idea of the year's wait is so that the Loric aren't so easy to pick off and actually put up a fight.

And I've heard that makes great viewing.

I close my eyes as I lean back on the bed. I imagine being picked and being carted off to a Mentor Cepan. I wonder what it would be like. I wonder if I'd meet any of the Loric and if we'd be friends.

I shake the thought of because I won't get picked. I don't want to get picked because that would mean certain death. I would surely die because my legacies aren't strong or good enough to fight against the mogs. I would be killed in a slow and torturous way, just the way the audience likes it.

I hear the bell ringing and I get up with a grin. This is my favourite time of the week when I can go out to the town and meet my friends. We always get a few hours off on a Sunday to go and do what we like. I scamper out of my room at once, tugging on my coat as I go, grinning excitedly.

It's the time I can be free for a couple of hours.

Once I've left the orphanage in an orderly way, I jog happily down the hill towards the small town of Santa Teresa. It's a tiny village far away from the Capital but we still get Tributes taken from here. We'll all have to make the five-hour journey early tomorrow morning.

I can see the glinting sea in the far distance, the one I took my name from. It's grey and cloudy today, making the sea look miserable. Or maybe that's how it always looks now. I can't remember the last time it was sunny on Lorien.

I finally get to the village, grinning when I see the café's lights on. I push open the door, greeted by the smell of coffee and above all, warmth. I can feel myself relaxing for the first time in a week.

"Eh, it's Marina!" I welcomed with a cheer. I'm covered in rain and muck from the jog but I'm grinning happily as I sit next to my friends.

"Hey Kamran!" I greet my friend, the closest age to me. He's in his twenties and is a great laugh. I used to have a crush on him but that fortunately faded over time. Doesn't make it less funny for him though.

"Looking good Marina" my other friend, Veronica, grins at me. She's 50 years old but despite the age difference she and I get on well. She's like the mother I never had.

"Thanks… I thought I'd try a new look today" I joke. She laughs and then motions for Timmy, her barman, to bring me a drink. He grins at me and then begins to make my coffee, just the way I like it.

No alcohol for me. The Sisters would know and then I'd be punished.

I grin as I settle down into the familiar routine, ignoring the steadily going time but instead focusing on my friends.

It's time like these that makes life worth living.

Xxx

**Stanley/Nine**

I whack the punching bag in front of me, grinning as it swings madly. I've got bloody fists and they hurt like hell but I carry on punching, imagining it to be a mog's head. Preferably Setrakus Ra's head.

"Stanley!" I ignore my mum's voice and continue punching the bag in my room, sweat dripping down my forehead. I try not to hit it too hard since we can't afford another one.

Thwack! That punch was for Setrakus' nose. Thwack! I can imagine his jaw shattering under my relentless attack.

"STANLEY!" I stop punching and pull back, my eyebrows shooting up as my mum enters the room. She never enters my room when I'm in a mood. She knows it's safer to stay the hell away from me and let me get rid of my anger.

My mum's aged, her hair completely grey. She used to be the most beautiful woman in Lorien according to dad. She used to love singing and she used to dance all the time. Apparently I was a happy kid too, playing with my chimaera Byscoe and Bradey all the time.

The Occupation has changed that. It's changed everything.

"What?" I grunt. I go over to the tub in the corner of my room, dunking my head in the water before pulling it out, wiping myself with a wet cloth. The water from my hair drips down my bare chest and onto my trousers.

"It's dinner" my mother sighs. I simply grunt again as I wash the sweat from my body. She sighs again as she leaves the room and I strip, getting into the freezing cold water. I wash myself quickly, my mind on other things.

I want to be chosen tomorrow. I'm ready to destroy every fucking mog on this planet, on _my_ planet. I'm going to rip Setrakus Ra's head from his neck and spear it onto my own pipe staff; the one my grandfather secretly left me, despite the danger. I'm going to make those _things_ wish they'd never begun this war.

It's not over. It never will be over whilst they're here. I'll never _ever_ let them forget what they've done to my family and I. My _race_ and I.

I get out of the tub and dry quickly, pulling on some clean clothes. I can hear my parents chatting and I scrub my long black hair, letting it dry naturally. I should cut my hair but what's the point? Not to show off anyway as all the girls around here are not my type. Too skinny and scared and _weak_. Although I suppose it's not their fault that they're terrified of the mogs. I would be too if I weren't so angry all the time.

"What're we having?" I ask, walking into the kitchen or more like cooking cupboard, it's that small. Mum looks up from the tiny rickety table, her face filled with lines. There's a big bowl of green stuff on the table.

"Salad" she says. I snort as I go over, picking at the leaves.

"You call that salad?" I mutter. She thinks that we're still on the perfect Lorien she grew up in. She thinks that when she calls this salad, I'm going to get fooled. She thinks that when she says we'll go out at the weekend, we all think it's a fun trip, not one where we need to buy our food.

This isn't paradise anymore and she needs to accept that.

"Don't speak to your mother like that" Dad says wearily. I sigh as I sit down, piling a whole load of the food onto my plate. I'm hungry after my workout and even leaves is better than nothing.

"Can you pass me the jug please?" Dad asks, reaching feebly for the jug of water on the table. Mum gives it to him at her, fussing over him as he glowers miserably.

Dad's a cripple. During the war, he lost his leg and now he's stuck at home instead of being able to work. Mum does it instead but only works in a factory and doesn't get a lot of money.

Which is why we're starving.

I pick at the soggy leaves on my plate, my stomach desperate for more than this. I scowl as I shove some more leaves into my mouth but it's really not working. I need some meat.

"I'm going out" I scrap back my chair as I get up from the table. My mum looks at me sadly, her eyebrows raised.

"Where are you going?" she asks, her voice nervous and thin. I smile kindly at her, patting her shoulder gently as I pass.

"Hunting… I'll bring us back some good food" I promise, grabbing my jacket. My dad puts his head in his hands whilst my mum stands up hurriedly.

"No, Stanley! You know it's illegal. They'll kill you if they catch you" she tries to stop me from going but I cross my arms.

"Mum! We're starving here! I need to do this" I argue, pushing past her and leaving the house before she can complain. She knows she can't win and there's a part of her that doesn't want to; she needs food too.

It's raining lightly when I get outside and I pull my hood off, steadily jogging to the woods nearby. I've hunted before and it works out well. Here on the outskirts of the city, nobody really notices one teenager going into the forest. Most people try to stay away from the slums.

I take a quick look around and then duck under the thin fence leading to the forest. Most people don't go in there for fear of the 'wild' chimaera but I love them. Since I can talk to them, they actually help me prey on the easy animals I can eat.

"Hey buddy" once I'm in the woods, my chimaera, Byscoe, comes up to me in dog form and rubs himself against my leg. He was able to survive the war and has taken to hiding himself in the woods.

_I got you some rabbits_ he tells me and I grin, scratching his chin.

"Thanks" I grin at him happily. "You have no idea how much I want one right now"

He leads me off into the woods where he shows me the rabbits, waiting to be eaten. They're by a small lake, one where I swim frequently if I have the spare time. I admire the rabbits at once, my mouth already watering as I begin to cut them up for eating.

I make a small fire right away, desperately hungry. I eat like I've never eaten before, grease dripping down my chin. I'll save one for mum and dad but right now all I can think about is the next mouthful. Byscoe keeps me company when all of a sudden I hear a cracking noise and a blade is pressed to my neck.

Shit.

Xxx

**Adam**

"You ready for tomorrow?"

Ivan, my foster brother, stands in front of me as we prepare to fight. We're training for the Games, which we'll be taking part in next year. We both volunteered and despite the strong competition to get a place, we were both lucky.

"Sure am" I grin cruelly at him. We're both excited to see our future opponents… or victims. We'll easily kill them without breaking a sweat.

"START!" Our general roars and Ivan begins.

He's better than me in a fight, there's no doubt about that. He's stronger and more vicious, whereas I'm weaker but faster. However, when it comes to the intelligence comparison, I'm leaps and bounds above him.

Ivan charges towards me, coming for a simple tackle. I roll out of the way at once, grinning, as he has to get out of the way of the wall. He spins on his feet and charges towards me again like a bull. I duck under his next charge but I'm kicked in the side.

I fall to the ground when he throws himself at me. We roll over for a while, trading punches until he manages to pin me easily.

"Ivan wins! Again…" our trainer says, helping Ivan up. I'm left gasping on the floor but Ivan grins down on me.

"Don't worry, dude. I'll have your back in the arena" he grins, helping me up. I clap his shoulder as we go towards the changing rooms, both of us sweating from the long morning that we've spent in the gym.

"And I'll be the master of strategy" I say and he grins with a nod.

"Totally…" he trails off and whistles at a nearby mog girl, Dannika. She's one of the rare hot mog girls. There aren't many mog women left nowadays and our race has resorted to vatborns for more mog soldiers.

"Hey guys!" she calls, flipping her black hair over her shoulder. Ivan swallows and then grins at her.

"You watching the Calling tomorrow?" he asks. She laughs and raises an eyebrow at him, her gorgeous face light up with a smug smile.

"Are you kidding?" she laughs, slapping his arm gently. He swells up in pride and puffs his chest out because she smiled at him. It's kind of hilarious to see him like this. It's also really embarrassing too.

"Of course I'm watching" Dannika continues. "I've even got tickets to be in the arena" she grins and Ivan whoops, high-fiving her. She smiles and then turns to me, winking at me. It means nothing, she's just flirting but I can't help but blush a little.

"Yeah, we'll be in the Rows" Ivan says, referring to the special area the mogs taking part in the Games go. Dannika giggles.

"Don't forget to kill those Loric as hard as you can" she teases. Ivan throws an arm over her shoulder and I decide to make a swift retreat.

I head off to the showers. Flirting is not my kind of thing, especially when it's Ivan doing it. He's painfully bad at it but it seems to work for some odd reason. Maybe it's because at the end of the day, even after acting like a nice guy, he can snap someone's neck in under a second and mog girls see that as impressive.

We all do.

I go over to the window overlooking the whole Capital. I'm in the training centre in the middle of the city. It's filled with gyms and huge rooms with different conditions in, kind of like a tiny version of the arena. Then there are the stadium rooms so we can practice one on one combat and team fights. Since I'm taking part in the Games next year, I'll spend the next preparation year using the best equipment in all of Lorien.

I prop my elbows on a nearby windowsill in the bathroom, whistling at the view. It's not that tall this building, but the city is so familiar to me I can tell what everything is. There's the temple of Setrakus Ra nearby, where we all worship our Beloved Leader. Then there's the Monument Tower next to it, depicting our win against the Loric. Then there are the government buildings that make up the rest of the City centre.

Surrounding the city centre is the inner circle, built up for all the mogs in Government and in the army, including my father. It's where they all live with their families and the houses are awesome. We've even got a gym underneath the house for our own private training.

Then around the inner circle, there's the outer circle. These are the nice estates for the normal mogs as well as the shops and other things a normal city has. Right outside the outer circle is the city wall. Outside of the city wall is the slum where the Loric scum live.

Outside the slum spreads a broad forest, which kind of creeps me out. All kinds of armies could be hiding in there and I know we're thinking of burning it out. Far in the distance, there are the smaller towns and cities where some Loric live. I can't see them because they're too far away but I know they're there.

And dotted around the rest of Lorien are the arenas. They're spaced out randomly but are bigger than some of the cities outside of the Capital. A new arena is being built for us for next year.

I literally can't wait. I'm so excited to show my race what I can do.

It'll be easy for us mogs. We get supplies and the best tents. We get food and proper clothes and best of all, great weapons. The Loric scum are lucky enough to be trained for the event.

If I were in charge, I would just throw them into the Games right after the Calling. But then, seeing decent Loric fighters compete against our mogs is fun. It's always good when they get their legacies out because it's so entertaining.

"Hey, Adam?" I turn to see Ivan there, grinning at me. "Ready for another fight?" he asks with a cocky grin.

I join him, excitement pounding through my veins. Practice makes perfect and I strive for the best.

I'm ready to win, to kill.

Xxx

**Maren/Six**

I soundlessly glide through the forest, my sword in my hand and my bow slung over my shoulder. I've been hunting this afternoon, getting food for my family and I. I can't wait to see my little sister Lilia's face when I turn up with these rabbits hanging from my belt.

Although the Occupation is terrible, my family and I have found a way to adapt. My father has a job in a small bakery, which pays well enough to get by, _and_ we get free bread. Even if it's stale.

My older sister, Catia, learnt to hunt before I did and then taught me how. I'm even better than her because of my legacy of invisibility. I'm able to cut down the largest deer and catch the fastest fish.

I'm lucky that we live so close to the forest. Many families live too far away to get away with it but for me, I can get to my house from here in five minutes if I really sprint. We may live in the 'slums' as called by the mogs, but really it's just a run down town. There are still the normal businesses like the bakery, butcher…The mogs just look down on us.

I sling the bow over my shoulder as I approach the small lake in the forest. It's my small secret; nobody else knows about it. I'm invisible of course but I still like to be careful; who knows what could be spying? I crouch cautiously by the lake and then pull out my trap, grinning when I see three gleaming fish. They're beautiful but best of all, _huge_. We can have a delicious fish stew tonight. Or better, I can sell them for a good price and get Lilia a new jacket. I quickly unhook them from the trap and put them in my bag that's slung over my shoulder, grinning at today's haul.

I hear a sudden laughter and then I'm up on my feet, racing away from the lake at once. I take shelter in the trees, with all my catches of course, and listen out. There's danger and I need to get rid of it.

He comes soon after, sauntering out of the trees like he owns the place. I've never seen someone like him before. Most Loric guys are thin and weak looking, desperate for food and safety. But this guy seems to welcome danger. He's walking around in broad daylight, a cocky grin on his face. He wants a fight.

He's also huge. He's incredibly tall and muscled, as though he spends hours a day working out. He's got a dog trotting next to him and in his hands are rabbits.

So, he hunts too.

I like the look of him. It's so hard to find someone who's a fighter nowadays and he looks like he's one. The way he sits down and makes a fire, eating noisily just _begs_ for him to be found. He wants to hurt the mogs; he wants them to _pay._

I think he and I could get on.

I find myself creeping forwards until I'm behind him. He hasn't noticed, too focused on his food and besides, I'm invisible. He's clearly not getting a daily income of fresh food like I am and there's something in his mannerisms that shows he's not used to such a good supply of fresh food like I am. Maybe he has to really fight to get out and hunt for food.

I lift my sword and then press it to his neck, turning visible. He freezes and the chimaera growls at me, before pausing. It can sense a Loric and is confused at why I'm attacking one of my own.

"Too scared to face me?" he finally says, his voice deep and taunting. I find myself gritting my teeth and then walking around to face him. Even with a blade to his neck, he's being a jerk. I make sure I dig it in extra hard, despite the growling chimaera at my feet.

He pauses when he sees me, his eyes running over me. He seems surprised about something and that makes my guard go up a little. I feel uncomfortable that someone's analysing me so much.

Yet at the same time, I'm doing the same to him. I'm taking in his impressive physique, his hard face, his dark almost black eyes. I can see a real fighter in him and I like that. He'd be a good ally.

"Huh" he finally says something and I raise my eyebrow at him, annoyed by his response.

"What?" I snap. He grins disarmingly at me but it doesn't work. I'm not one to be fooled by pretty smiles.

"I figured you were a mog, not a girl" he says, about to say more but I silence him with a glare.

"What, you think because I'm a girl I can't catch you unawares?" I ask him. He grins and holds his hands up. He's really annoying but also really enticing. There's just something about him.

"Calm down" he says patronisingly. "I was only saying what I thought" he grins at me. I glare back and then remove my sword. He's not an enemy; he's just like me. He's also incredibly annoying.

"You hungry?" he asks, gesturing to the fire and the rabbits cooking. I narrow my eyes as I think but then I shake my head.

"I've got my own" I say, gesturing to my catches. His eyebrows shoot up, impressed, when he sees how much food I've got on me. And he hasn't even seen the fish and greens in my bag.

"Nice" he whistles. "Don't mind If I carry on then" he grabs his rabbit leg and munches on it again, watching me. His dog sits next to him, watching me too, head titled to the side.

"You hunt a lot?" he finally asks, looking up at me. I bite my lip, not sure whether to answer him but then I nod. He can see I've hunted and he won't give me in. He's Loric and we don't give in one of our own.

"Yeah" I don't elaborate and he doesn't ask for anything else. He carries on eating and that puzzles and annoys me.

"You're different" he suddenly says, chucking the bone away. The dog jumps up and catches it, cracking the bone in its powerful jaws. "You're not like other girls" the guy carries on.

I raise any eyebrow at him as I adjust the bag on my shoulder. "In what way?" I ask, my tone challenging. The guy grins as he cleans his hands on his trousers.

"You don't take shit. You don't play the victim. Most of the girls just sit at home and cry" he shrugs as he moves onto the next rabbit. I watch him and then nod.

"Well, you're not like most guys I know" I shrug as I gaze out into the forest. I'll need to get going soon. "You fight too"

He grins as he bites into the meat, grease dribbling down his chin. I'm not squeamish so I don't squirm away from that and he grins.

"Good" he considers something as he eats some more. "Well you better get going" he finally says.

I furrow my brow in confusion and he grins, very smug about something. "The way you're standing, the way you keep glancing around…. You gotta go home" he shrugs at my impressed look. "I'm perceptive"

I roll my eyes as I put my sword away and zip my coat up. "And annoying" I comment. He shrugs good-naturedly as he watches me. I pause and then unzip my bag, grabbing a fish and tossing it at him. He looks at me confused.

"Give it to your family" I say. Before he can say anything else, I turn invisible and lope off into the night before he can say anything.

I didn't even get his name.

* * *

**Hope you all enjoyed! So those are going to be the five POVs that I'll use in the story. I won't use every one for each chapter because some of it will just be repeated :D Anyway, Up next is the Calling! **

**Please review!**


	3. Chapter 2 - The Calling

**Hi guys!**

**Ok, so I know I wasn't supposed to update until next Saturday but because I've had mid-term/half-term, I've been writing ****_loads._**** So I thought I'd treat all my lovely readers and reviewers! **

**Also, thank you all so much for the lovely reviews! I really appreciate the huge amount of support you've all been giving me! I mean, 32 reviews for 2 chapters! You guys are the best!**

**Sooo, some of the reviews asked a lot of the same questions so I'll answer them now:**

** - Eight is coming soon…****_very_**** soon**

** - I will have ****_two_**** fives – my Five from my version and the Five from the real series. My Five will be called Sophia, the real Five will be called Cody. I thought it might find it more interesting if I had both in. Also, the results were half and half for who you all wanted to be in the story so i compromised.**

** - Who am I pairing? Hell, I've no idea myself. Let's just see where the story takes me… :D **

** - Added on to the last point: Navrina is a given!**

** - Will Adam be good? Well, I'm trying to base this story as much as possible on the real series so it's very possible…cue evil grin**

** - Um, is it more Hunger Games or Lorien Legacies? LL by far. I'm just using aspects from the HG to make the basic outline of the story.**

**So, please read on! :D**

* * *

Chapter 2 – The Calling

**Marina**

I wake up early, even earlier than my alarm. It's still dark outside and the moon's shining through my small window. I sigh as I roll over, pressing a hand to my forehead and willing my headache to disappear. It's probably a stress one, caused by the fear that today will bring.

I would be lying if I said I wasn't worried about the Calling. I'm pretty terrified to be honest. Every year, standing there in that arena as they call out the names of all the poor children going up to die… it's the worst feeling ever.

There was one year, when a girl from the orphanage was called. She'd been 13 and so defenceless. I'd wanted to pretend it was my name and let her live but the rules didn't allow that. Also, I didn't have the courage to do that.

She never came back.

Apparently the lead up's ok. The volunteers go off to some Mentor Cepans at a nearby camp and they spend a year eating well and training. They don't live in the hell most of us are used to. That sounds pretty decent to be honest.

Just dying at the end sucks.

I sit up and gulp down some water, my mouth feeling dry. I get up and go over to the tub of cold water and grab the soap, cleaning myself. My teeth chatter and my skin erupts in goose bumps but I want to be clean. I pour a jug of water over my hair, drenching myself in the freezing water.

I dry myself off quickly, shivering. I drag a brush through my wet hair and then braid it in the style my mother taught me. Well, I think it was my mother. I've just done it all my life and I imagine it to be something she passed on down to me.

I sigh as I sit down on the bed, trying to calm myself. I look to the window, wondering if this is the last time I'll sit in this room. It's getting lighter outside and then the bell rings, signalling all of us girls to get up. We have half an hour and then we'll go.

I slip my dress on and my shoes, going over to the window. The sun's out today but it's red. Blood red. It's the week of the Blood moon and it aptly coincides with the Calling. I watch as the light baths the distant sea in dark red and I shiver, suddenly turning away from the window.

I carry on getting ready, trying to ignore the blood red sea outside but I have a bad feeling. A horribly bad feeling. Like the sea that I'm named after was like blood for a reason.

Xxx

The arena's silent as us girls file in. We're one of the last to make it here since we're from one of the furthest towns from the city. Also trying to organise a group of 30 or so girls to get ready on time is always going to be challenging.

"Name" the mog at the desk asks me as I go up for my turn. We're just in the small room where you have to sign in and then you enter the arena through the door at the other end.

"Marina, Santa Teresa" I reply smoothly. All of the girls from the orphanage have it as a surname since we don't have our own and if we did, it's long forgotten. The mog writes something down and then ushers me on to the line waiting to be seated. The Sisters are watching us closely, not wanting us to misbehave and disgrace them.

There's a sudden slight disruption behind me and I turn. The mogs look angry as a boy runs into the entrance, his face lit up in a grin. I'm puzzled by how happy he is, doesn't he understand what day it is today?

"Sorry I'm late" he says cheerfully. "Joseph Underwood" he continues. The mog at the desk glares up at him but all the same marks something on a piece of paper. The boy is ushered into my line as we wait to go out through the door.

"Oops, don't think they liked that" the boy grins at me as he waits behind me. I don't know what to say so I carry on waiting. I don't want to cause a scene like he did.

"I'm Joseph" the boy pushes, grinning happily at me. I can't help but smile at him; his smile is so infectious.

"I'm Marina" I smile softly at him and he beams back. We move forward in the queue and then it's my turn by the door. I hold my wrist out and a needle is inserted into my skin. I can feel them putting the tracker into my arm and it's uncomfortable but I keep a straight face.

I'm ushered down the stairs and the boy behind me, Joseph, is gone from my view. I want to wait for him but I would only get a beating from the sisters when I go back to the orphanage. And there's no point anyway. We both live in different places and lead different lives. I'll probably never see him again.

I'm seated near the back, next to some of the girls from the orphanage. I rub my arm unconsciously where they put the tracker. Even if we're not chosen, it's a good way to keep track of someone.

I watch the stairs nearby and then see Joseph descending them. He's put in the row in front of me on the left, by the edge of the stairs like me. He sees me and flashes me a grin, making me smile in return, even if I still feel sick.

"Welcome" I freeze at the loud booming voice after half an hour of silence. I have to remain calm, if not for me, but the other girls around me. I have to seem like a calm island in the middle of a stormy sea. Lucy, the tiny 10-year-old next to me, clutches my hand.

And then the Calling begins.

It starts with the usual video of the war and how we lost it. I can feel tears in my eyes as I think of my parents who died in that war, who gave their lives for something they believed in. I wonder what they would do if they saw me here now. They would probably try and rip the mogs to pieces.

They would do what I'm too weak to do.

The speech continues and I people watch, my eyes scanning the crowd. The Soldiers roam the audience, making sure we're all here and all behaving correctly. The Loric are separated in two groups: children and adults. I'm near the back of the children's section, waiting for the names to be called.

If luck's on my side, it won't be me.

"And now, the moment we've been waiting for!" Setrakus Ra booms, bringing me back to the present. I'm so tense I could snap but I try to remain calm. He goes over to the dreaded bowl in the middle of the stage and reaches in, pulling out a name.

I feel so tense that I could snap. My heart is thundering and my palms are so sweaty as they clench tiny Lucy's hand. I bite my lip and taste blood.

"John Smith!"

I release a breath; relieved it's not me. It's not me. I'm 29 names safer to living another year.

I look out to see who the new victim is. In the crowd, far away from me, a blonde teenager of about 16 freezes. All of his friends move away from him, leaving a gap where he stands. He swallows a couple of times before moving forwards, his steps stiff.

I feel sorry for him, I really do. His friends have abandoned him without thinking and now he has to face that long walk to doom all by himself. He's utterly and completely by himself.

The Mogs roar as he walks towards the row of empty seats saved especially for the Loric Tributes. He's terrified as he walks the long journey from his place to the empty row of seats. I swallow as he takes his place and Setrakus goes to the bowl again.

"Ella Fitzgerald"

Again not me. Relief floods through me, replaced by dread at this new name. A tiny red haired girl walks down the row towards John Smith and I feel even worse. Why should she die? She's so young! Noises of sympathy erupt in the crowd because she's so small and so young. Nobody likes to see a little girl go to die.

"Stanley Worthington"

A huge, vicious looking guy looms up from the crowd and lumbers out towards the steps. He cracks his knuckles slowly as he goes, showing that he's not going to go without a fight. I almost want to grin at his defiance and I see a few Loric who do.

Setrakus goes back to the bowl. He picks up another name and I squeeze Lucy's hand, trying to remain clam for her. She's sobbing next to me, absolutely terrified.

"Marina, Santa Teresa"

My body freezes and I can't move. The girls around me move away at once and Lucy drops my hand. My heart pounds and I can't breathe. No, no, this can't be happening. No…

_It is! Move!_ I command myself, not wanting to look stupid.

I don't know how I manage to do it but I take the stumbling steps to the stairs. I manage to walk slowly down them, my body and feelings numb.

No. This can't be happening.

I can feel people watching me as I descend. When I pass Joseph he briefly reaches out and touches my hand but I don't feel, only see. I'm not aware of the faces turned my way; all I can feel is a haze.

I finally make my way to the benches when another name is called. I don't listen; I'm still in shock. I get to the three other _children_ here and the little girl Ella reaches out to clutch my hand. I sit next to her, holding her trembling hand in mine, both of us so deathly scared.

"Welcome to the ranks" the huge guy mutters. Stanley, his name is Stanley.

I'm numb and trembling and pale as more and more names are called. Another small red-haired girl is called up and then a blonde girl with a sarcastic smile, who also seems in the mood for a fight. A socially awkward guy is called up and then a nerdy guy who can't be more than 100 pounds. Three beautiful girls are called up: two black haired and one blonde.

29 names have been called and I'm startled and saddened by all of us sitting down. Most of us are hiding down in our seats, unable to believe this whilst Stanley and the beautiful black-haired girl are watching the mogs angrily.

My hand's numb as I clutch Ella's, both of us still trembling. She started crying at one point and I wiped away her tears. I feel very protective over her, like an older sister. I suppose being called for the Games does that to someone.

"Joseph Underwood"

Another unpleasant shock. I'm sat rooted in my seat as I think of the joyful, grinning boy I met earlier. How he'd brushed my hand as I came down here. How he'd tried to remain cheerful despite it all. The pain of him being involved in this is too much and tears flood my eyes. I sit in my chair rigidly.

He appears shortly, his face filled with shock and his hands are shaking. His tan skin is suddenly pale and his movements are jagged. However, he manages to get to the last seat and doesn't say a thing.

"Your Tributes" Setrakus booms and the arena erupts, cheers from the mogs echoing in the huge space.

I close my eyes, the tears streaming down my cheeks.

Xxx

**John**

I sit numbly in the room, filled with the other tributes. We're to be separated and then sent into some small rooms where we can say our final goodbyes to friends and families. It's supposed to be an act of kindness but I think it just rubs more salt into a wound. It reinforces that you're going to die and your family will see the whole thing.

As I'm waiting for the mogs to round up our family and friends for a final goodbye, I analyse the other tributes. I should get to know my future allies and see who's strong and who's not. I may ally up with one in the arena and if I want to survive, they have to be strong.

Harsh but true.

There are always four main groups of tributes every year. Usually, every Loric falls into the category of either: scared, stoic, tragic and determined. To pass some time that could be sent panicking myself, I arrange the other children into different categories.

Most kids are scared. There are a few younger ones who are literally shaking with fear as they sit on their seats. A few in particular stick out. There's a small red-haired girl with brown eyes, who clings to a taller girl with brown hair. The poor girl is terrified, too young to be involved in the Games and she knows it. She's definitely scared.

Then there are the stoics. I see a guy who's built like a barrel, not chubby at all, but strong. He's looking blank, but there's a flash of panic in his eyes. I guess he doesn't want to appear weak so is keeping his emotions to himself. Smart move.

There are a few tragics. A girl with blonde hair and brown eyes who looks about 13 has clearly given up. She just looks blank, kind of dead. She's given up before the Games have even started. I can see a few more who clearly just don't have the will and I know with a sense of sadness that they'll go first.

And finally, there are the fighters. I can see a few already. The muscular guy who grinned as he was chosen. The frowning girl with the grey eyes that seem to flash in anger. The tanned guy whose fists are clenched. Even the nerdy kid with the glasses looks like he'll try to fight.

The door opens and then in marches a mog attendant. She goes up to a girl with brown hair who the little girl with red hair is clinging to. The women grabs the brunette's wrist and the little girl is told to let go. The brown-haired girl leaves the room, not looking that worried so it can't be too bad. It's like she expected it.

"From an orphanage" the red-haired girl whispers before we all lapse into silence. Ah, the orphanages. It's filled with orphans or children whose families are too sick to look after them. The girl will be taken to the boarding room where those with no families wait. We'll meet her after our goodbyes and then we'll board the ships to take us to our new home.

"John Smith, Kira Marty, Una Norris, Joseph Underwood, Sarah Hart…." A voice calls from the overheard system. The list goes on until 16 kids have been called. We've been called up to say goodbye to our families first.

I follow the attendants down the corridor, my body filled with dread. I don't want to see my grandparents who will be devastated and in utter despair. I don't want to see Thom who left me without a moment's hesitation in the arena. I don't want to face any of them, but I have no choice.

The door to my small room is unlocked and I'm let through. I look around, taking a deep breath. This has to be the last time I cry now. I have to appear strong and in control afterwards otherwise my chance of getting sponsors will be limited. And sponsors are vital if I want to survive the longest.

"John!" the door bursts open and then my grandma hurls through, wrapping her thin arms around my body. Despite their frail look, they're a lot stronger than they look and I wheeze a little at the tightness.

"Hey gran" I murmur softly. My grandfather shuffles over, tears dripping down his cheeks. He embraces me too and I feel tears well in my eyes. I shut them desperately, trying to appear strong. I have to, for their sake.

"This isn't right, this can't be fair" my gran's whispering, her voice low, so low that only I can hear. We could be watched for all we know and what she's saying is treason, something that could get her killed. I stroke her hair, pulling back and placing my hands on her shoulders.

"I'll fight" I promise. "I won't give up, no matter what." My grandmother simply sobs and presses a wrinkled hand to her mouth. She looks so frail, delicate, and breakable. Or maybe she's already broken and I haven't noticed. The Capital's done that by killing her children and sending her grandchild into the Games to die.

"John" my grandfather is all business as he clenches one of my hands. "Get weapons, preferably a sword and maybe a gun if you're lucky. Get supplies too and you should manage for two weeks in that arena" he says grimly. I nod at once, knowing I'll get this and more from my Mentor. But it means more coming from my grandfather…it means he has hope in me.

"Whatever you do, don't give up" he tells me. "You're a fighter, your parents were and you will be too…you can win, you just have to fight" he tells me, his eyes dark and intense. I hesitate, biting my lip.

"But Loric never win" I protest. He shakes his head at once.

"There are survivors. There are very few but there are some." he says earnestly. "By the third round most are ready to die and they stop fighting. But you have to carry on and you'll win. If you kill all the mogs or last long enough in all the Rounds, you've won, fair and square. They can't kill you then" he tells me. I nod, determination coursing through me. I have to do this.

There's a knock on the door and then an attendant comes in, trying to take my grandparents away. I hug them as much as I can and then kiss their cheeks, telling them I love them and I'll never forget them. They're calling that out too when they're dragged out and the door is slammed shut.

I yell in anger and punch the wall before slumping on the couch, despair filling me. I don't want to go, I want to stay with my family and be safe. I don't want to go off to a new home with a mentor who won't care.

I don't expect anyone else to visit; Thom's probably run off now I'm a tribute. Yet I'm caught off guard when he opens the door, looking nervous as he enters.

"So, you remembered you're supposed to be my friend?" I want to sound accusatory but I just sound tired, defeated. Thom shakes his head, tears streaming down his cheeks as he comes over, wrapping his arms around me. I can't find it in me to fight and I hug him back. I'll regret it later if I don't say goodbye properly.

"Promise me you'll win" he says fiercely, pulling back. Here's the Thom that's always been my best friend, not the one who abandoned me in the arena today. Maybe, like me, he was so terrified he couldn't act like normal.

"Promise me you'll try, no matter what" he begs. I nod at once, my heart heavy with sorrow and promises I have to keep. Thom sucks in a breath when the door opens again. They're not giving me enough time and I wonder if that's part of the torture they put us through.

"I'll see you later, I promise!" I call as Thom is hauled out, shouting obscenities at the guards, and then I'm left in silence.

Alone once more.

Xxx

**Maren**

It's silent in the big, half-empty room. 16 of the tributes have been called out to see their family and friends, the rest of us are now waiting. I don't want to be here amongst all the misery and terror. I want to be alone, preparing for the next crippling minutes.

I can already see Lilia's face streaked with tears as she clings to me. I can imagine my mother's tears as she kisses my forehead, begging for me to run away and save myself. I can imagine Catia's silent pain, refusing to cry and trying to be strong for me.

It's weird to think that in a year I'll be in an arena, ready to kill as many mogs as possible. It's weird to think that all of the kids in this room with me will be there in the same arena…some might even be dead this time in a year.

"Got a lot of family waiting for you?" a girl sits nearby with short light brown hair and a plain face. In the arena we'll get nametags otherwise it'll be impossible to remember everyone's name. But for now she's just another victim.

"Why does it matter to you?" even though my voice is quiet, it's still the loudest thing in the room. I can feel a few eyes snap to both of us, watching us silently. I bristle at this unwanted attention and try not to scowl too much.

"I'm trying to be nice" she replies. She's not offended, not upset in the least and I wonder if she's one of the lucky ones without family to say goodbye to. There was a girl from an orphanage who was led out earlier; she has no one. You would not believe how jealous we all were of her not having to go through the pain we'll get for an hour. She'll get an extra hour to cope with being chosen.

"Save it for someone else" I warn her. I can feel others' eyes on me again and this time my warning's for them all. "I'm not allying with anyone" I finish.

There's an uncomfortable silence and then someone begins to chuckle. I turn my head and try not to gasp; it's him! The guys from the woods, the one I thought was a fighter. He winks at me as he lounges on his chair as though it's the most comfortable thing in the world. As though he can't for this whole damn thing to get started.

"Me too" he chuckles. "If I'm going to try and take out as many mogs as I can, I don't want any collateral damage" he grins. There are a few offended gasps around the room at being called 'collateral damage' but I can only twitch my lips up in what could be called a smile. This guy is on the same wavelength as me and it's refreshing.

Just then, before anyone else can say a thing, more names are called until we're all standing. I'm taken out first into the corridor with the meeting rooms, passing some weeping Loric who've just seen their family and friends for the last time.

I'm pushed into my own room but I don't have to wait for long until my family piles in. Lilia launches herself at me, sobbing and in hysterics as she clings to me. My mother is just as bad, trying to control herself but failing. And Catia is as strong as me, refusing to weep one tear.

"Win for us" she says at last, reaching out and hugging me once I'm drenched through with my sister's and mother's tears. "Win for us and make them pay" she whispers fiercely.

It's always been Catia who understands me the most. She knows how terrible these Games really are, but how they can be won if you're strong enough. She knows I can win if I try hard enough and she knows I'll make them pay for the atrocities they've put us all through.

"I will" my voice is as calm and cold as ice. "I promise I will" I vow. My sister smiles tightly and then reaches up, pulling the beautiful necklace our father gave to her for her birthday. It's a small lightning bolt on a chain and it means so much to her. Yet she still passes it over and slips it over my neck. My token. We're all allowed one in the Games and this is mine.

"So we'll always be with you" she vows, clenching my hand when the doors are thrown open. My family are dragged out amidst Lilia's screaming my name and my mother's sobbing. The door slams shut and then it's just me and my iron will.

"Always" I echo, saying goodbye to everyone I ever cared about. I let them go, one by one from my thoughts and heart until I'm empty.

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**So, hope you enjoyed it!**

**Just so you know, Joseph is Eight. I'm sure most of you guessed that but I just thought I'd put that in here :D**

**Please review! **


	4. Chapter 3 - The Mentors

**Disclaimer: I don't own Lorien Legacies or Hunger Games…**

**Hi guys!**

**Ok, so again I wasn't supposed to update until next week but writing is going quite well and you're all giving me loads of lovely reviews so I just ****_had_**** to update. :D also, thanks so much for all the incredible reviews I've been getting; they are just so nice and I love them all!**

**So, answers to reviews…**

- **John/Six action? Yes, that will come up eventually…**

- **Sarah ****_is_**** Loric but a Cepan. The humans in the LL series will be Loric but as Cepans so they don't have legacies :D**

**And a huge thank you for the lovely comments once more! :D**

**So, please read on…**

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Chapter 3 - The Mentors

**Marina**

The ship flies through the air as fields and towns disappear in seconds beneath us. I've never been in something so quick before. The speed and, at the same time, the smoothness takes my breath away.

It's not the only thing that's remarkable about this ship. The luxury is just out of this world; rich furnishings on the chairs, platters of food covering almost every surface, crystal chandeliers…just everything you could dream of and more. I feel dirty and out of place in my blue dress and simple shoes. I feel like I should be more dressed up.

I'm sitting in one of the main rooms but not many tributes are here. In fact many of them have gone to their own private room to grieve separately. We each have our own room to be by ourselves on the ship, it's _that_ big, but we don't have to use them. There are only four other people in this room with me and none of us are willing to talk.

What do you say to people who are going to die?

Just then, the door opens and a girl walks in. She's beautiful with blonde hair, ivory skin and the deepest blue eyes you could imagine. She's wearing a delicate light pink dress that almost floats around her and I know at once she'll get sponsors. Even the mogs aren't immune to beauty.

"Do you mind?" she asks me softly, a kind smile on her face as she gestures to the seat next to me. I shake my head and she sits, a breath of perfume hitting me.

I haven't smelt such a wonderful scent in a long time. Perfume is such a luxury where I live and I bet it's the same for a lot of volunteers here today. Add the scent to the girl's lovely dress, her slim but strong body and shining skin you can tell she's a lucky one. She must live in one of the richer towns outside the Capital. She probably gets enough food and luxuries.

"Where are you from?" she asks. I smile at her, deciding on trying to fill time with a conversation. At some point I'll be meeting my mentor and the thought fills me with dread and nerves. What if we don't like each other?

"The orphanage at Santa Teresa… you?" I say, brushing some of my hair back. Next to her, I feel plain and a little boring. I'm not jealous but I can't help but admire her and her modesty. Even for a rich kid she's a nice girl. Most of them are arrogant brats.

"I came from Paradise" she smiles at my shocked laugh. "Ironic, huh? Although compared to the slums outside the Capital, it was a paradise…" she trails off, her face turning serious. I smile sadly and without thinking, I take her hand. She doesn't even blink an eyelid and I find myself warming more to her.

"You don't realise what you have until it's too late" I say softly. She nods and then smiles sadly, picking up a pink pastry thing from a nearby plate. She tastes it and her eyes widen, making her look even more impossible pretty.

"Better enjoy the luxury while we can" she laughs lightly and I can see the others in the room looking at her. Like me, they're drawn to her. It's her beauty, her compassion and cheerfulness in such a terrible time. I'm about to say something else when I'm interrupted.

"Line up for departure"

The simple announcement has my stomach churning in nerves again. One of the kids in the room, an 11 year old, begins to panic, tears streaming down his cheeks. The girl's up at once, comforting him with a hug and reassurances. I smile at her once before I leave the room.

I don't even think she noticed.

I enter the main hall of the ship where we'll be leaving. We're lined up in rows when there's a gentle bump and the ship stops moving. We're here. We're here in the tributes village where we'll be spending the next year, waiting.

Only four kids can leave at a time. They'll have to collect their nametag, which will already have been made, despite the short amount of time. They're actually very beautiful, set in silver with gold writing, but above all they're practical. By Round 3 you don't need them but they're crucial for Round 1, the arena, when there are so many contestants. I mean, nobody is expected to remember 60 names.

I'm one of the first four to be taken out and I leave the ship, looking back on a crowd of waiting children before the door shuts on them. Now it's just me and three other kids and two attendants. We walk down a metal corridor, our feet sounding on the floor as we walk to the exit.

It feels like forever but it can only be a few minutes before I'm free and in another hall. There's a desk with the nametags and four Mentors lined up there. I can't see them properly since they're in shadows and I guess that's the point. To intimidate us even more.

"Maddy Shore" the only other girl, about my age, steps up and selects her nametag. She's very serious as she attaches her tag to her blouse before her Mentor steps forward. They shake hands and then turn to leave down the exit corridor. Then the Mentor will take them to their new home and I probably won't see her for a year.

"Hannu Cort" another name, another nametag and then another Mentor. Then the other boy, Tobias White, is taken out and then it's just me.

I step forward and take my tag. It's surprisingly light, even though I know it can deflect bullets. I saw that once in the arena. I attach it to my blue dress and then meet my Mentor, my stomach churning.

I thought it would be life changing. I thought I would be hit with a sudden determination to win the Games but I just feel fear as I shake the hand of the woman in front of me. Adelina, her nametag says. I try to smile but I can't. I'm out of smiles and probably always will be.

"Hello" she seems as reserved as me as she leads me down the corridor. I can hear another door open behind me and then the announcement as more volunteers get their tags. I swallow the lump in my throat at the thought of such complete and utter devastation around me. All of us will be dead. All of us gone in over a year's time.

Unless we fight and try our hardest.

"This way" I'm led out of the building and then I see the ship clearly for the first time. It really is huge but it's the extension that runs out of it to the building that I just came from that creeps me out. It's like a giant mechanical arm and I shiver in dread. It's like a giant machine delivering cattle to be slaughtered.

"Here, my pod" Adelina unlocks a nearby pod, which was far too expensive for the residents of Santa Teresa. I enter, admiring the leather seats. We set off, zipping down the streets but feeling like we're not moving at all, that's how smooth the ride is.

"I'll talk to you about training in the morning" she says and then that's it for conversation. I'm too tired to want to talk and she seems too reserved, or maybe she doesn't care. How many children will she have been given, just for them to end up dead?

I can see in the dark so the view around me is as clear as daylight. I see huge houses lined up in rows, thirty in total. But each one is so huge with a garden the size of a meadow that it takes half an hour for Adelina to get us to her house. And we're not even on the outskirts of the Village.

"Here" she switches then engine off and I exit the car, staring at the new house. It's huge and lit up, shining like hope. But there's just dread and fear and _weariness_ coursing through my veins when there should be excitement.

And not for the first time since I was called I just want to sleep. To lie down and pretend this was all a dream. Pretend that I was never called and I'm still safe, still in that orphanage which now seems like a haven.

But instead I fix a smile on my face and follow Adelina inside.

Xxx

**Stanley**

I'm sat on the ship, in one of the smaller but public rooms. I've seen kids come here and there through this room; it must be like a corridor room. Many are scampering around, whimpering, as they try to find someone they recognise.

I admit I've been a loner since I got here. I haven't tried to make friends; I don't need them. I need my wits, I need sponsors and that's about it. Another Loric won't help me out…well, not unless it's _her._

I haven't seen her since before we said goodbye to our families. That was as terrible as I'd imagined it would be. My mother had been screaming in hysterics, my dad had been frozen in shock. I'd never even gotten the chance to say goodbye to Byscoe.

"Drink?" one of the attendants stops and offers me a glass of something green. It looks odd but I accept it anyway, taking a testing sip. It's like mint exploding across my mouth and it's actually very refreshing. After the barely suppressed tears with my parents and now this grief-stricken ride to hell, I need a bit of a pick-me-up. I sit there, staring silently at the floor of the ship as I continue to sip my drink.

"You should try the red one"

A girl's in front of me, a beautiful girl. With thick black hair, athletic build and intelligent brown eyes, she's drop-dead gorgeous. Fortunately, I was drinking so I swallow the liquid, as I'm able to come up with a response. Otherwise I think I could just stare at her.

"Why?" I look at it in suspicion. "Is it alcoholic?" I ask before mentally slapping myself. Now I sound like a rule-abiding wimp. Pathetic.

"Try it" she challenges, a wicked grin on her face as she holds out the glass. I raise an eyebrow at her but she doesn't waver so I sigh and take it. I give it a tentative sniff but it smells like cranberries. Can't be too bad then.

I take a sip and then my eyes bulge as a vile tasting liquid fills my mouth. It's so sweet I feel like one mouthful will decay my teeth. I barely manage to swallow it before downing the green minty drink, which now tastes very bitter.

The girl's cracking up with laughter, her hands rested on her black trousers as she bends over. Then she straightens up, a huge grin on her face, as she flicks some hair back. I'm slightly captivated.

"I'm Maddy Shore" she laughs with a grin as she offers her hand out to me. "And I think you just made my day" she chuckles, still really amused.

I take her hand, noting how small it is in mine. And her skin's so soft too. I let go before I look like a freak though and I grin up at her, trying to appear unaffected. "Considering the day you've had that's not a compliment" I reply.

She laughs before sitting down next to me, the top of her head just coming to my chin. "You're funny" she says, her grin dying down to a more thoughtful smile. "You don't care about this whole thing. And if you do, it doesn't seem like you're upset"

"Neither do you" I note, both of us staring ahead at the metal wall opposite us. A kid of about 16 walks past, their hands clenched in fists. The look of hopelessness on their face saddens me.

"I am upset…I just have a good poker face" she says after a while. I don't hesitate to take her hand, like I would for my mother. It's for comfort, nothing else, and I think she knows that because her face relaxes a little, as she leans against my shoulder. It comforts me too.

"I hope I'll see you before the arena…I don't want to spend the next year by myself with just my mentor for company" she says and then the announcement comes on telling us to make our way to the main hall to line up. It's time to separate and I don't want this almost perfect moment to end. But we have no choice; we have to obey.

"Me too" I reply as we enter the busy hall. An attendant flips through a piece of paper, sees Maddy and tugs her up to the front. Our hands are torn apart and I'm sent to the back. I can't see her anymore and when the doors are shut with a clang, I know she's already gone.

Xxx

"Stanley Worthington"

I'm not in a good mood. I've been up since 6am, chosen by that filthy scumbag leader, endured tragic goodbyes, travelled for hours and now I've had to wait for ages whilst the other kids get their mentors. No, I'm not best pleased.

I snatch my nametag and stuff it in my pocket, not bothering to put it on yet. I ignore the glare of the guy behind the desk as I walk up to the guy that must be my mentor. He's walked out to meet me and I get a good look at him for the first time.

He's young, younger than a lot of the other mentors. He's wearing a suit, something so well made that I can just imagine the money spent on it. His hair's gelled back and he's smirking, like this is all a game. But his eyes betray him; they're intense, ready to get to work.

"Hi" he offers his hand and I shake it, making sure I grip hard. He's got to know what he's got to work with and I'm nothing if not straight to the point.

"Hey" I reply sullenly. His eyebrows shoot up at my bad mood but he simply shrugs and leads me out of the stupid building.

I get my first breath of fresh air in over four hours, which has to be a record for me. Even if I don't hunt everyday, I'm usually outside for one reason or another. Meeting up with some other guys in the slums, trying to steal from the rich mogs…it's odd for me to be inside for so long.

"So where you from Stanley?" my mentor asks. I snort as I look outside, appraising the ship and then the start of the village. It's a nice place and you can't deny the houses are more like mansions.

"The slums" I grunt. "Better be careful, I might have fleas" I try to antagonise him but he doesn't take the bait. Instead he simply shrugs and leads us over to a pod. I can't help but stop in my tracks.

It's beautiful. I've never seen one of these before but in the slums we were always talking about them. They're sleek, smooth, and fast… perfect. I feel a relaxed grin spread over my face as I bound over to it, running my hands over the neat metalwork.

"Please tell me I can get a permit too" I grin. My mentor laughs as he unlocks and I slide in, running my hands over the rich leather but more importantly, looking at the controls in this thing.

"You won't have time. You'll be too busy" he switches the pod on with a wink and it hums to life, barely making a noise. I raise an eyebrow at him as he easily navigates it, the steering so easy.

"Yeah? Doing what?" I ask, genuinely curious. My mentor presses a button and then the pod goes into self-drive mode. He leans back, looking pleased as he faces me. He says nothing but he's taking me in properly this time, his eyes running over me like an artist, deciding where to begin with a piece of art.

"I don't even know your name" I say in exasperation when he says nothing. The pod continues to zoom past the two rows of houses on either side. Most Loric will be there now, getting to know their new mentors.

"I'm Sandor" he finally says. There's a light in his eye that tells me he's not as laid back and easy-going as he appears to be. This guy wants to fight back.

And for the first time in my life, I feel like I've finally met someone who I can relate to. Who wants the same thing as me.

Who wants revenge.

Xxx

**John**

I sit on my new bed, the tears I've wanted to cry for so long not appearing. I held them back on the ship and when I met Henri, my mentor. I held them back on the long ride to this new house. I even held them through dinner. But now I have the chance to cry, I just can't.

Henri's a good guy; I can see that at once. He doesn't just want to help me but to educate me as well. He's given me a schedule of things that we'll be covering and as well as legacy and combat training, there's also history. I wonder if it's the history we're taught in school or if he'll be telling me the deeper stuff, the things we're not supposed to know.

I think back to the ship, where I'd gotten to know a few other kids. There was Sarah, the beautiful girl in the pink dress who flitted around the whole ship to talk to everyone. She'd told me she loved to take pictures. I'd wanted to say I loved her smile. Before I could talk more, she'd gone, off to find more people to cheer up.

Then I met Sam, the nerdy kid I'd seen a few times already today. He was actually pretty fun, despite the constant references to sci-fi and maths. In fact, I'd have been quite happy to talk to him for the whole ride if his cousin hadn't started breaking down in tears.

Then at last, there was that other girl, Maren. She hadn't been very talkative, even when I tried my hardest, but there's something that tells me she's a nice girl. You've just got to dig deep with people like that. That was at the beginning and then she'd left, probably to break down somewhere.

I was one of the last to meet my mentor. Not the very last group, but I'd certainly waited longer than most. Right now it's pitch black outside and I know I should get some rest but I just can't. I want to talk to someone, to get rid of the loneliness inside me.

I take a deep breath and then leave my room, pattering down the hallway. Everything here is simple but still very lovely. My room only has a bed, desk and a bedside table but everything is made out of gleaming mahogany. My curtains are some kind of thick brocade and the covers on my bed are very warm.

I make my way down the great curving stairway until I get to the ground floor. Everything's lit up and that's much more welcoming. A lot of the houses here are still pitch black and I feel for those poor tributes.

"John?" I turn to see Henri behind me, two mugs of tea in his hands. He smiles warmly when he sees me, gesturing for me to sit down on one of the huge sofas. I do so and accept the tea he offers me.

"Thank you" I say quietly, still nervous around him. There's an air of intelligence about him that reassures me but also makes me feel inferior. I need to shake that feeling off and try to become his friend if I'm to survive.

We sit in silence for a while, both of us watching the crackling fire. I want to just sit here and do this for the rest of the evening and I know I won't have to worry about training for the moment. After all, the news that I'll be taking part in next years Games is still sinking in for me.

"First thing tomorrow we're going to work on strength work" Henri begins in his quiet, thoughtful voice. I listen in at once, knowing that he only ever has important things to say.

"What do you mean by strength work?" I ask a little nervously. I'm not worried about getting stuck in and doing the work but it doesn't sound that appealing. Henri grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"We'll be building up your strength so that when it comes to leaning combat training, you'll be stronger and faster" he explains. I nod because it makes sense, even if the whole process sounds hard.

"So, what legacies do you have?" it seems Henri is already all business as he grabs a nearby clipboard and pen. It's reassuring to have someone take control and I can be a kid again, even if it is just for today.

"Um, telekinesis, lumen…oh and I can talk to animals" I list my legacies off. They don't sound that impressive when I list them like that but Henri just smiles and nods. I suppose it's better than not having legacies at all.

"Right" he fills out a few more things on the form and then looks at me sternly. "This isn't going to be easy John. You need to work hard to get sponsors" he explains.

Ah, the sponsors. They're the rich mogs who live in the city. They're not allowed to sponsor the mog soldiers in the Games, otherwise they would, but they can sponsor us Loric. They send in food or medicine or matches or whatever else is need. It keeps the Loric alive for longer and again, it's all about the viewing.

Henri carries on talking. "You need to be the best you can be and that means no slacking and no complaining about how hard I push you. Do you understand? Will you do everything I tell you to do?" he looks at me seriously and I don't feel like a child anymore. I feel like an adult.

I look into his eyes and I don't see him joking around. He's being very serious. It's going to be hard, I'll probably hate him some days and I won't be able to socialise with the other tributes. But if this means I'll win and live in the end then it's worth it.

"Yes" I nod, understanding the gravity of this moment. "I'll do everything to survive"

Henri smiles in relief and then nods, putting the clipboard down. He seems relieved and I wonder if he's had some slackers before.

"Let's get to work then" he grins.

Xxx

**Maren**

The door shuts behind me and I'm alone at last, not with that blonde boy who was too talkative for my liking. I'm in my own private room on the ship where I can scream and shout and cry to my hearts content. Yet I still feel like I can't show my real emotions because I'm still being watched.

I look around the small room, my watchful eyes taking in everything. The clear glass decanters on the table along the side of the room, filled with different liquids: blue, red, green…There's a plush chaise against another wall and a mirror above another table.

I go over to the mirror looking at myself in the reflection. I haven't ever looked in a proper mirror. I have a cracked, small square mirror at home that barely fits in my hand but here I can see my whole reflection. Black hair, pale skin, grey eyes, no smile…I'm still exactly the same as I've always been.

I haven't changed at all from the girl who went out hunting yesterday. Was that only yesterday? It seems so long ago. I long for my sword to be in my hand and for my bow to be slung on my back. I long for the fresh air, the smell of the trees, the light patter of rain in the leaves…

I slump onto the chaise, a lone tear streaking down my face as I imagine the woods where I belong. I've spent days in there where the only thing bringing me home was the thought of my hungry sister, Lilia.

I lie back on the chaise thinking of the lake where I learned to swim. The rocks where I learnt my impeccable balance. The trees where I practiced my climbing and became as nimble as I am.

I wipe the lone tear from my cheek and sit up, going over to the table with the mirror. I run a brush through my hair, grimacing at the knots in it. I carry on going and soon it forms a black cloud of hair, floating down my back.

I take a deep breath and then leave the room, walking past more children. There's a whole range, boys and girls, older and younger, tall and short, thin and…thin. I ignore most of them but there's a few that stick out to me.

The little girl with the bright red hair. She was one of the first to be chosen and guessing by her face, she's only just getting over it. There's another little girl with red hair but I don't know her name either. She's sitting on a chair with a book in her hands. She's turning it over like it is precious metal but to me books are a waste of time. A weapon is much more valuable.

I walk down the hall when I feel someone bump into me. It's a tall kid with curly hair and green eyes. In fact, they're such a beautiful green, like some of the leaves in the woods in spring. I get a pang of longing for my home so I snap my eyes away from the boy's.

"Sorry" he grins at me, not seeming upset at all. He's got a plate of food in his hands; they look like little brown domes, sprinkled with gold glitter.

"What are those?" I can't help but ask in fascination. He laughs and offers me one but I shake my head. I don't trust anything but my own food.

"Chocolates" he grins and his teeth are smeared in brown. Normally I would cringe in disgust but it's actually kind of funny with this kid. "Never had them before but damn are they good!" he throws a few more in his mouth and chomps down on them.

"Where are you from?" I ask curiously. I've never met such a happy kid before and it's a refreshing change. He winks at me and then leans close, as though it's a secret.

"A place in the mountains that nobody knows" he whispers and I find a shocked giggle escape my lips. He's so light-hearted that I feel better after talking to him.

"You mean Indiania?" I raise an eyebrow at him, saying the name of the small town that's in Lorien's mountains. It's known for being isolated from the outside world and even though it's small and poor, I've heard it's one of the happiest places on Lorien. Figures that this kid would have grown up there.

"You'll never know!" he calls, winking at me as he saunters away. He bumps into a few more kids, laughing and offering them chocolates. I stare after him, a strange grin on my face. It's been so long since I last smiled that after a while it hurts my face.

I shake my head and then carry on walking. I don't know where, I don't even know why but I do. Maybe it's because deep down, despite my show of bravado, I really am terrified.

Xxx

"I'm Katarina"

The woman in front of me looks soft. That's my first thought. With her hair waving around her shoulders and her cashmere jumper, a fabric that I've only ever seen on mogs, she looks soft. Weak.

I reach out and grip her hand when I get a surprise. There are callouses on her hands, a sign that she's spent some time working. I get another surprise when she grips my hand with the same strength that I have.

"Maren Elizabeth" I reply. I hate my name. It's too soft, too girly. I'm glad I didn't get Lilia or Catia because then it really would be hard to outlive my name but then mine is almost as bad. But when Katarina smiles I think she likes it.

"Can I just can you Maren?" she asks. I nod, because that's what most people do. She leads me down the corridor to leave the building but instead of leading me to a group of pods she leads me past them and we begin to walk through the village.

"It'll be a good hours walk" she says. I furrow my brow wondering if I've got an old-fashioned person on my hands. Someone who refuses to live with modern technology.

"Why are we walking?" I ask. She raises an eyebrow at me as if to test me and I don't like having to prove myself. I know I'm good and I don't need to show this woman.

"Because we need to start somewhere" she says before looking away. We walk on in silence when I notice her begin to increase the pace.

At first it's not obvious. Just a slightly faster step and a little more effort. But then when we begin to lightly jog to keep up with the other one, I realise she's racing me. She wants to see how good I am.

I'll show her, I decide. I can outrun her in seconds and I will. So as she's jogging along at a fair speed I suddenly up my running until I'm sprinting along the concrete, leaving her in the dust. She calls out a number, six, and I guess that's the number of the house.

It's exhilarating being able to run again. To run so fast there's wind in my hair. I pound along the pavement, building up my speed and sweat running down my back. I'm grinning, feeling free, as I sprint down the long stretch of road.

It takes 20 minutes of full sprinting before I get to the house we're at. It's near the outskirts of the village and is huge. There's a porch and a front _and_ back garden as well as three floors to the house. I stand there, gawping at the house in awe.

"Well done" Katarina appears behind me, in a pod. She must have gone back for it when she saw me sprinting on ahead. I shake my head at her cheating but it's actually kind of funny. She grins back at me as she hops out and I realise I don't see her as soft or weak.

I see her as my mentor. Someone who will help me win.

* * *

**Hope you liked the chapter! Next chapter is called…..*drumroll* 'New Beginnings'**

**So, please review and see you next week!**


	5. Chapter 4 - New Beginnings

**Disclaimer: I don't own Lorien Legacies or Hunger Games…**

**Hi guys!**

**Thank you all so much for the awesome and lovely reviews! I really appreciate every single one of them since they're all so nice and supportive! :D**

**Also, sorry for not updating last week. I had such a hectic week and had no time to do any writing, so I was really behind and the chapter just wasn't good at all. So hopefully this longer (and now much better) chapter will make up for that.**

**Review answers:**

- **I plan on keeping up with the same POVs for the moment. I might change some around but for now it's going to be Marina/John/Stanley/Maren/Adam.**

- **Maddy is the girl Nine fell in love with in Nine's legacy; I'm using her in this story for now…My five/Sophia will come up in the next few chapters. She won't be playing such a big role initially but she will be there.**

- **Other names of characters in here: One=Hannah/ Two=Maggie/ Three=Hannu/ Real Five=Cody/ My Five=Sophia**

**Anyway, please read on! :D**

* * *

Chapter 4 - New Beginnings

**Marina**

It's late when I wake up. Much later than I had imagined Adelina would let me sleep in to. I can see the sun high in the sky when I wake, even through the thick curtains. I roll over in bed, the warm sheets tangled around me as I look blearily for the time.

9.30! I sit up at once when I see the time. I've never been up so late in my life since I'd get a beating at the orphanage. I run a hand through my tangled hair as I use telekinesis to pull the curtains open, letting light enter the room.

It's sunny outside. The house opposite is lit up in the beautiful sunshine and I can hear someone laughing. A child's laugh. I walk over to the window, tripping a little as I try to disengage myself from the blankets.

From the window I can see the house opposite. The young girl whose hand I held as she was crying in the arena is playing outside, an animal bounding between her legs. A man's behind her, grinning, as he watches them play. His eyes flicker upwards as though he knows I'm watching and I back away from the window when his eyes meet mine.

I'm glad Ella, I think that was her name, is settling in already. I'm glad she's been allowed to play this morning instead of getting down to work at once. I'm glad this man is letting her settle down before he fills her in on the scary stuff. But I'm older and I have no excuse for slacking from my training.

I quickly change into some clothes I find in the chest of drawers by the bed. I pull on a deep blue blouse and black trousers, puzzled to see there aren't any training clothes in the drawers. I slip on some slipper like shoes and then scamper down the stairs and into the kitchen.

"Sorry I overslept, I won't do it again!" I say in a rush as I enter the kitchen. Adelina is drinking from a mug in front of her and I smell something rich and bitter. She has a plate of eggs and bacon in front of her, a pile of toast next to it all. I can only stare at the luxuries in front of her, my mouth watering.

"You could have slept in longer" Adelina says, putting the book she was reading down. "You don't have any reason to be up so early" her face is peaceful and a trickle of dread starts to creep through me.

"There are eggs in the fridge for you to make" she carries on. "And bacon too…oh, and there's some coffee left in the pot" she points to a piece of kitchen equipment that has brown liquid dripping out of it and into a pot.

Distracted, I go over mystified and pour some of the brown liquid into a nearby mug. I take a tentative sip and spit it back out onto the side; it's so strong and bitter! Adelina laughs gently as she grabs a jug from the fridge and passes it to me.

"You need milk" she explains. I add the milk and it does taste a bit better. I could even get used to it after a while.

"I thought we were going to be training" I say at last as I grab an apple from the side. The kitchen is filled with so many high-tech kitchen gadgets that I don't know what to use to make eggs. We had a gas cooker but this one looks a lot more high-tech.

"Training?" Adelina snorts as she chews some bacon. "It's so overrated" she mutters, drinking some more coffee.

My eyebrows shoot up as I stare at this woman, at my mentor. She's completely ignoring her duty to the Games _and_ me! She should be trying to help me live as long as possible but she's not! Tears of frustration fill my eyes and I try so hard to control myself so I can fight.

"Please" I beg. "You can trust me to be the hardest-working, most determined Loric you've ever had" I grip her hand. "Just please help"

She simply laughs and takes another bite from her fork. I suddenly hate her; hate her for having this luxury whilst others are starving. I hate her for not caring that I'm going to die in the first five minutes and that'll be her fault.

"I've read your file and your legacies" she snorts, sliding it over to me. "I have nothing to work with. No defensive legacies, no particular strength…in fact you're very average and average doesn't get sponsors"

I narrow my eyes in anger and slam my cup on the table, anger and determination racing through me. I've been pushed over so many times in my life; I won't let this woman do this same!

"You do not decide whether I live or die" I say angrily. "You're my mentor and you're supposed to help. Now do your duty!" I shout.

Her face wavers but then she shakes her head, her eyes dropping down in guilt. She knows she's wrong but she won't help. "You don't understand Marina. I've seen children come in here with much more to fight for. You have nothing"

I feel like I've been slapped and I jerk back. "You think I'm too weak, not committed enough to win?" I ask, clenching my fists. This is not how this morning was supposed to be going. It's scary to think that some kids will have had a few extra hours practice and will already be better than me.

"I had a boy who once had a whole family to provide for. If he died, his family would starve to death. He had to fight for them! But he still died! And you have nobody but yourself to live for" she shakes her head. "You'll be one of the first to go"

"That's not true" I shake my head, trying to stop her poisonous words getting to me but it's not easy. "I may not win but I'm not going to die in the first ten minutes. I'm going to be remembered. I might even win" I say determinedly.

She begins to laugh, clutching her stomach in utter amusement. She's howling with laughter, finding this all so hilarious. "You think _you_ can win? You'll never win! Nobody ever does!" her voice turns hysterical. "There's never a winner in the end, only the mogs win! Yes, some might survive the Games but you think that means they'll be safe? And _you_, you'll die in Round 1 and then I'll have to suffer all over again" she wails, tears in her eyes.

I finally get it, finally get why she's so reluctant. She's trying to protect herself. She thinks if she avoids me all the time and doesn't help me train she won't get hurt when I'm eventually killed. And it kind of makes sense. If she doesn't care for me in the first place, she won't hurt when I'm killed.

I change the topic, deciding to befriend her instead of persuading her. Maybe once she thinks we're friends she won't have a choice but to train me. Or maybe I can manage to persuade her to train me.

"What did you do to be given this role?" I ask softly. Because this is a punishment in itself to be forced to train kids every year and then watch them die. She sniffs and then gulps down her coffee, grateful for the distraction.

"I'm not a Garde, just a simple Cepan" she says, meaning she doesn't have legacies. I'm one of the lucky volunteers who will have legacies and therefore an advantage. I may be weak but with my telekinesis I can buy myself some time. "But I was good with a sword…too good" she wipes away a tear, her face haunted with the past.

"I killed too many mogs in the invasion and when we lost I was put in this position…as a punishment for killing the soldiers" she shakes her head sadly. "You have no idea how hard it is to see the child you've loved for a year, kept company for a year go to die. You have no idea" she sobs.

I wrap an arm around her and she turns to sob into my shoulder, clinging to me. I've never realized just how bad it was for these mentors until today. And I can see why she doesn't want to train me. Because what's the point when we'll end up dead anyway?

But I have to try.

"I can see in the dark" I say evenly. "No one can creep up on me. I can breathe underwater so I have a hiding place that no one can get to. I've got telekinesis, which means I have a way to protect myself and hurt the mogs. I can heal so I can't be killed unless it's instant" I look her dead in the eyes. "I may not have any attack legacies but I can survive with mine"

Her eyes widen and she draws in a long breath. "I know…but I just can't Marina. Not yet anyway. Not when Nina's going to-" she breaks off, her voice sounding choked. Nina must be the Loric going into the games next week, the one that Adelina was assigned to last year.

"I'm sorry" I finally say, trying to reach a compromise. "You don't have to train me personally. But can't you show me the training hall anyway and I can do my own thing? I can manage on my own... Please just show me?" I ask softly, begging for a yes.

She looks up at me with tear-stained cheeks and such vulnerable eyes that I want to cry too. This is misery…this is despair. She looks down again and then nods, very softly, giving in to my demands.

"It's the door under the stairs. The training room is under the house and has everything you need there. But don't expect me to go into that room again" she whispers. I nod, triumph racing through me, as I pull back.

I might not have a mentor but I have a training room and my own determination. And that is better than nothing.

Xxx

**Stanley**

It can't be later than 9am and I'm drenched in sweat. My shirt clings to my skin and sweat runs in rivulets down my back and face. Even my knees are sweating and I didn't even think that was possible.

Sandor is the opposite of me, made up in a smart crisp suit. He's sat behind his 'Lectern' grinning as he watches me catch my breath. We've been here since 7am, working on my strength. Years of punching bags and sit-ups have made me abnormally strong. Paired with super strength and I'm a machine.

We're in what Sandor calls the 'Lecture hall' and I'm his 'Young Ward'. I don't get the reference but he can't stop a grin every time he says it. He's never looked so optimistic before and I wonder if I'm doing well. Or maybe he's just always like this and I'll soon learn to realise that.

"Break!" Sandor announces and I jog over to the Lectern, eagerly swiping the bottle of water he passes me. I gulp it down, finishing it in less than a minute. Sandor wrinkles his nose at my state.

"You smell" he says at last. I open my arms as if for a hug and he flinches back at once, making me chuckle darkly. He raises an eyebrow at me.

"I'm in control of this room and you want to tease me? Bad move, young ward" he chuckles in return. I've finally got my breath back and I look around in appreciation.

"Are all of the rooms like this?" I ask. Moving floors, drones flying out every second, punching bags that slam into you…it's awesome. Sandor grins smugly, shaking his head.

"I modified a few things. I like inventing things" he presses a few buttons on the panel in front of him and a few metres away, the floor erupts in fire. I raise an eyebrow at him.

"That could kill" I tell him. He smirks in return and holds up a black, smooth rock.

"Healing stone" he tosses it to me and I look over it in shock. I've seen loads of rocks like these in the woods but I never knew what they were for. "It hurts like hell but if you put it on a wound in under an hour it heals up. I have a few for our training sessions" he tells me.

He presses another button and then a chair pops up next to him. He offers for me to sit in it and I do, relaxing in the softness. He swivels in his chair so he's facing me, leaning forwards and putting his elbows on his knees.

Down to business then.

"Your strength is off the charts" he begins and I grin in relief. "You've clearly been using a punching bag and whatever else to increase your strength. I guess your endurance is good as well since you haven't fainted on me yet" he chuckles and I bet that's happened before. I snort in amusement.

"But your fighting is terrible" Sandor turns serious. I slump in my chair in shame and disappointment. I knew my fighting technique wasn't great but I thought it might be good enough at least.

"I'm good in one to ones" I mumble. Sandor shakes his head, his eyes surprisingly gentle.

"Not against a mog. You have strength and courage but no technique. A mog will have years of experience to take you down in seconds, even if you are stronger" he tells me. I slump down further, feeling deflated.

"What do I do then?" I ask resigned. Sandor pats my knee in comfort and then grimaces, wiping his hand on his suit. I can't help but grin.

"Train. You'll be fine once I'm done with you, more than fine" he grins. "As long as you work hard enough, you'll be fine" he grins at me. "Never fear my young ward" he intones.

I roll my eyes at him before getting up, itching to learn some fighting techniques. But Sandor takes the staff out of my hands with a grin and I realize I'm not done with warming up, even after two hours.

"So" he grins evilly. "I'd like 100 sit-ups, 100 push-ups and 100…"he pauses to think and then grins. "100 laps around the room"

Suddenly, I don't like this guy so much.

Xxx

**John**

The room is dark since the thick curtains have shut out the early afternoon sun. Henri's shut all of the doors so it's just us two in this room and so no one can overhear. I'm sat on a chair, watching the fire crackling in the hearth as I wait for Henri to come in.

I was right about him being different. He's a good trainer; he proved that this morning. We were up at 6am, had an early breakfast and then training begun. I was doing laps and sit-ups and other things to improve my strength. We even worked on a bit of fighting.

But this afternoon is dedicated to legacies and something else. Something Henri is scared of people seeing. More importantly, scared of the mogs seeing.

He enters the room, a Chest under his arm. It's quite big and guessing by the look on his face, heavy too. I get up to help but he ushers me back down. He shuts the door and only the dimmed lights and fire lights up the room.

"What is it? And why are we hiding?" I ask curiously. Henri smiles gently as he unlocks the lid with a key. He slips it back into his pocket and then slowly opens the lid without answering.

Inside is a medley of gems, rocks and other weird objects. I see a red bracelet and a small diamond knife. I see a blue cube and then a yellow one nearby. I frown and reach out to take some of the things but Henri gently pushes me away. He takes a small sack out and then shuts the lid. It locks automatically with a little clicking sound.

"Hold your hand out" I do as I'm told and he pours the contents of the sack into my palm. It tingles a bit, kind of like it did when I got my Lumen, but I don't say anything. I watch as Henri puts the bag down and then turns to me.

"Turn your Lumen on" he says solemnly. I do as he says and the reaction is instant.

The balls float up in the air, forming a special formation. I watch and then understanding hits me as I recognize the solar system Lorien orbits in. In fact I can see our small planet, three planets from our sun and our two moons circling it. I can also see Mogadore, a black shell of a planet.

"This is our solar system" Henri says, beginning his lesson. "This is what Lorien looks like now" I look closer and can see only greyness. Grey sky, grey sea, grey land. It's accurate. There isn't much colour in Lorien. Sure, the woods are green and the sea can be blue but even then it looks sad.

"Shine your Lumen on Lorien" Henri tells me. I furrow my brow but do as he says. Suddenly the solar system speeds up until there's a blur. Then they all merge into one giant orb.

"Lorien in the Glorious Years" Henri's face is wistful as he gazes at the orb in front of him. I can barely speak.

It's stunning. The sun is shining and the grass is such a rich green. The sea is a deep shining blue and I can just imagine how beautiful it once was. No wonder my grandparents were always so sad, so wistful for this planet. This is a paradise and it was once ours.

"They're monsters" I say the words that could get a bullet through my skull in seconds. "How could you do this to such a beautiful planet?" I say, fury racing through me. Henri sighs sadly and then takes my hand.

"They won't get away with it" he says at last. I'm confused because that sounds like rebellion and that's not a possibility…is it?

I've never considered rebellion against the mogs. Sure, the Loric are angry and want their freedom back but the mogs are too strong. They have the weapons; the leader who can't die and above all they love to kill.

But then I think of the power we'd have if we just worked together. We could be devastating with our legacies but only if we use them…

"Don't think like that" Henri says quickly but there's something in his eyes that tells me there's so much more he's not telling me. "It won't happen"

I sag in disappointment. I'm not getting out of these Games, no matter how hard I wish for it to happen. These Games are used to control the Loric and if the Games go, so does the control. So, no, there's no way they'll be stopped.

"How were we attacked?" I finally ask, trying to find out the one thing I've always wanted to know. My grandparents never told me and it wasn't something we're taught in school. No matter how scared the teachers are of the mogs they won't go into such a painful part of history.

"It was the celebration of the Quarter Moon. For three days there'd been a strange blue beam in the sky but we'd all written it off as something the Elders had made to celebrate" Henri begins. I nod, we still have this celebration, but they're small parties just for the Loric. The mogs don't understand. "Anyway, I was watching the fireworks in Navaria"

I haven't heard of Navaria; it must have been destroyed before I was old enough to learn about it. Henri smiles ruefully at my face and explains further.

"It was a festival and was very popular for it's festivities" he grins fully now. "Every Quarter Moon it was all set up with concerts and fireworks and many other things. Lots of Loric travelled there for the celebration" he sighs. "I was one of them. I went there with my wife, Julianne"

Before I can ask anything about his wife Henri quickly continues with his story. Something tells me I don't want to know what happened to his wife. "The mogs bombed the defenses in the Capital first, destroying the Grid. It was this system that was used to not only defend the Capital but alert the other cities of an attack. The other cities had defense systems like the Grid too, but there was a flaw with the system. If the main Grid in the Capital went down, they all went out" Henri sighs.

"So as you can expect, the Grid went down and then other places were attacked. They were now open to attack since their defenses were gone. That's when the ground attacks started all over Lorien"

"We tried to fight back" Henri sighs. "The Garde in particular. But the mogs were clever by attacking us during a celebration. Many Loric were too drunk to defend the place and many others were just too scared and disbelieving. The shock element cost us dearly…by the time we were ready to fight back, too many Loric were dead" Henri explains sadly. I can feel tears in my eyes, never having heard this story from a Loric before.

"Once the main cities had been attacked past defense, the ground squad attacked the smaller towns. There was little to no resistance in these places and one by one all regions over Lorien gave in. There was a small resistance at some point but by the time they tried to attack, there were too many mogs to fight against" Henri continues.

"They re-built the Capital first. At this point most believed there was still a way out of this. But we stupidly allowed the mogs to build up the Temple and Training centre with a speed we just couldn't believe. After that, the mogs moved onto other cities…other regions"

"Didn't they create the districts?" I ask, interested. Henri nods, his face grim.

"The mogs were clever. They needed to isolate the Loric from one another, so they had different districts. Some are just cities, others are collections of towns. It doesn't really matter, but what counts is that Lorien doesn't feel like one community anymore. That's why it's so hard for us to fight back"

"So what happened after they'd built up the cities and the districts?" I ask curiously. Henri smiles grimly.

"That's when they started the laws. The laws to give the mogs more power, the laws to make the Loric work for them…the Funeral Games laws. There was a huge revolt against that last one but we couldn't do anything…we were completely under the mogs' control by that point" Henri sighs. "By the time we really realised the true extent of the danger with the mogs, it was just too late"

"We just let it happen?" I ask a little incredulously. Henri sighs sadly.

"You need to understand. Many families lost so much; their homes, their relatives, friends…it took time to rebuild their lives and homes and get jobs before they could even think about rebelling. By the time they'd gotten over their grief and were moved to anger there was just nothing we could do" Henri frowns miserably. "We underestimated the mogs over and over again"

"I'm sorry" I finally say after a long silence. "About your wife" I assume she's dead because he never mentioned her again.

Henri looks up, his eyes devastated. "The worst thing is that she's still alive" he finally says. "They have one member of our families, the mentor's families, so we can be controlled easily. They have Julianne" he admits.

I'm appalled. No wonder these Mentors don't do anything. They can't because if they rebel, their loved one will be killed or worse, tortured. They're too scared and the mogs are manipulating their love.

"Not all the Mentors have family of course" Henri sighs. "There are some who are alone and were given this role as a punishment" he shrugs, his eyes fixed on the perfect orb still floating in front of him.

"How is it a punishment?" I ask without meaning to. I feel bad the minute I say it because Henri grimaces in pain.

"Because we become close to a child, someone we see as our own and then they're taken away and slaughtered. And then we have to move on as though we don't care" Henri says and I can see the true, terrible side to being a Mentor.

I look down at my hands and see they're clenched in fists. I'm beyond angry and it's all focused on the mogs. They deserve to go through hell for what they're doing to my planet.

"One day they'll get what's coming to them" I say, my voice sounding even dangerous to my ears. "They'll wish they never set a damn foot in Lorien" I vow, even though I can't do anything.

But when Henri looks at me his eyes are thoughtful as though something can be done, as though there is a faint chance of hope for us. And suddenly I don't think the Loric are as laid back as the mogs think.

The mogs don't seem to realise what I have. That the fear in the Loric has turned to fury. And that fury has turned weakness into a desire to do something.

A desire to fight.

Xxx

**Maren**

The late evening sun shines into the main lounge, lighting up the gentle colours into fierce shades. My eyes run over the wooden tables and bookcases, landing on the books on the shelves.

I've spent the whole day training and now it's my free time before dinner. My body is sore in a way it's never been before, as though I've used every muscle possible. Even my eyes hurt. But I feel satisfied because I know that I've used my time well and this will only benefit me in the long term.

I stand up, smoothing down my blouse automatically. It's crisp and white, something I've never worn before. If I wear white whilst hunting it's usually covered in mud and dirt by the end of the day.

I go over to the window, looking at some of the houses around me. I haven't seen any of the children from those houses but they all have lights on so I guess they're working as hard as I am.

"Dinner will be in an hour" Katarina appears in the doorway, her hair pulled back into a ponytail. We've gotten on so well already; our love of training has helped us bond. I can't believe I've been so lucky to have such a good mentor.

"Thanks" I say. She nods and then leaves, probably wanting her own private time like I do. I know we like each other but that doesn't mean I want to spend every minute with her.

I suddenly get the urge to be outside in the fresh air. I hate being inside without going outside once a day and there's a huge back garden here. I head to the back of the house and unlock the back door, going into the garden.

It's perfect here. There are big trees at the back that I can scale and sit in for fun. In fact, Katarina mentioned doing some training with trees so in case of an emergency I could scale them quickly in the arena. I didn't have the heart to tell I've had more than enough practice at that.

I head to the back of the garden, ignoring the couches under the waterproof canopy. I grab a low branch on the closest tree and then swing myself up, higher and higher until I'm equal with the second floor of the house.

I lean back in the leaves, smiling happily for the first time in a while. I pick a few leaves off the branches and run them through my fingers, admiring them. They're practically the same as the ones back in the woods at home and if I close my eyes I _could_ be back there…

"Hey" I jump at once at the voice and reflexively reach for my sword before realizing it's back at home and all the weapons are inside.

"Easy" I hear a kind chuckle and as my eyes focus on the noise, I see a kid about my age. He's tall but skinny with glasses perched precariously on his nose. No threat here. He grins when he sees me, a slight blush on his cheeks.

"Sorry" I reply, not smiling. I'm not one to do that. "I was caught off guard"

The kid analyses me and I notice that he's sitting in a tree too, but on a lower branch than me. Both of our branches hang over the fence separating our houses, which are both far away enough that we can't be seen.

"I'm Sam" I can tell the kid wants to offer his hand but he's too low down and I don't think he can climb all the way up here. I watch him for a second and then climb down a few branches so we're on a similar level. It's the polite thing to do.

"Maren Elizabeth" I reply. We shake hands and his are surprisingly strong for someone of his weight. He squints at me through his glasses before they flicker down, embarrassed.

"I figured you'd have a more badass name" he says after a while. I can't help but laugh at his admission. It's quite geeky but kind of cute too.

"Um, thanks, I guess" I chuckle, my legs swinging over the side of the branch. He moves to do the same and then loses balance on his branch, hands grasping for a handhold as he tips off. Before he can tumble off it, I fix him with telekinesis and he gapes a little, his hands shaking as he clutches onto the branch.

"You're a Garde?" he asks in appreciation. I nod and he smiles, still shaky, as he settles on a more secure part of his branch. "Then you're lucky" he says.

I nod and look down, some locks of hair falling across my face. I know how fortunate I am to have legacies, something I can use to help survive and fight. For the Loric without legacies, the Cepans, it must be hard for them to live. They're practically defenceless.

"You must have strengths I don't have" I try to comfort him. He snorts, clearly not agreeing with what I'm saying and I feel bad about his lack of confidence. But at the end of the day a boy's lack of confidence is not my biggest problem.

"Yeah, I could totally kill a mog with my knowledge of space" he says sarcastically. I look at him in pity and he shakes his head. "Don't look at me like that. I can't stand it"

"Like what?" I ask even though I know exactly what he's talking about.

"Like you think I'm going to die first. Like you feel sorry for me" he replies, smiling gently at me, despite his annoyed words. I look down in shame. I wouldn't want someone to look at me like that, why would he?

"Sorry" I mumble. "…I don't think you're going to die first" I add but my words sound weak to me. He reaches out and takes my hand, surprising both of us. His cheeks turn bright red but I keep my hand in his. It's quite comforting.

"Sure you do" he says, almost cheerfully. "And who wouldn't? I'm a Cepan and on top of that have no physical strength or the looks to get sponsors" he shrugs and I know he must have come to terms with his fate.

"You seem clever" I say, grasping onto something. "And intelligence can't be underestimated" I try to reassure him but he simply smiles. There's a light in his eyes that tells me he's a lot wiser and _better _morally than everybody else in these games.

People like that never win. It's always the nastiest, the strongest, the meanest. And even then, they're lucky to win.

"Thanks" he smiles because he knows I'm trying to make an effort. And in this moment I feel like _I'm_ the one being pitied for being the person who won't accept the truth. And I suddenly hate it.

I pull my hand away and hurt registers in his eyes before he composes himself. We pull back and it's only then that I realize how close we really were. I look away, stripping away some bark from the tree and chewing on it. It's an instinct I've built up from years in the woods. It gives my mouth something to do and wards off hunger.

"You've hunted before" Sam is much more intelligent than I really thought. Without my realizing it, he's been analyzing me, seeing my strengths and weaknesses. He's come to the conclusion that could get me killed.

"Yes" I don't lie, there's no point. One good thing about the year of preparation is that I can pretend all my knowledge came from there and not from years of illegal hunting.

"That's cool" Sam grins at me, and I see him as somebody I can trust. He won't blab about me to the authorities and in return I'll help him. I can tell him how to survive for two weeks in the arena.

"Sam!" there's a man's call and then a bulky man comes into view. He's not fat, no chance of that, but he's strong and packing some muscle. I shrink back so he can't see me, only Sam.

"See you soon" Sam whispers quietly and then quickly climbs down the tree. A few times he slips and without thinking, I help him out with telekinesis. The man slaps him gently on the back when Sam appears and they both head off, chatting happily.

I lean back in the tree watching them both go, confused. I was absolutely determined not to let anyone past my carefully built up shields. But in less than a day Katarina and I are as close as possible and I already want to help Sam out.

Maybe my walls weren't so well built. They must have fallen at the first sight of kindness in years and now they lie scattered around me in pieces. All I know is that I have to build them up before the Games begin.

* * *

**So, I hope you all enjoyed it! :D **

**Please review!**


	6. Chapter 5 - Training

**Hi guys!**

**So a huge thank you to everyone for all the reviews and the support you all give me! I love every PM and I love to hear your feedback or thoughts on my story, so I really do mean it when I say that I appreciate every single one of the reviews.**

**Secondly, I'm sorry for the later update again. I promise to update next Saturday so that you don't have to wait for ages again. I just have this important project in for Monday so I've been trying to get it done for this weekend but now it's done, I can promise to update by next weekend.**

**Answers to reviews:**

- **They opened the Chest with a key as it's not John's Chest, just a Chest for whoever was picked as tribute. It could be anyone's Chest.**

- **Maren and Sam? Maren and John? Maren and Nine? Hehe, you'll have to wait and see…**

- **Are the Garde going to have the same story as my other story? Hm, I don't know yet, I'll see where this story takes me…**

**Please read on!**

* * *

Chapter 5 - Training

A month and a half later

**Marina**

It's early morning when I creep out of my bed and head to the training room. After being here for over a month I'm familiar enough with Adelina's timetable to know when the best time to train is. The morning and late evening to nighttime is perfect since she's usually in her room.

We've both kept our promises. I don't bother her about my training and she lets me use the room whenever I want. She makes lunch and dinner for me since she knows I'm training but one word about what I'm doing and our fragile truce will be destroyed. So I shut my mouth and instead talk about everything else but that room.

I enter the familiar room that's become my haven. At first it was almost impossible to use and I wanted to give up, resorting to beg Adelina again. But I didn't do that and I stuck with it, trying to learn the best way around the room.

There's a panel on one side of the room that controls functions of the rooms; moving disks on the floors, bullets shooting out of a hatchet and so on. I've avoided that part of the room so far since I'm not good enough and I'd probably kill myself. The one time I pressed a button I had to heal a burn about a foot long on my leg. It was very painful.

However, I've been using other equipment. I'm a lot stronger through use of the punching bags and mats for basic strength. I can do at least 100 sit-ups now, something I really couldn't do before. I'm faster and more flexible so I can at least escape.

But my real talent is with the bow and arrow. There's a cupboard in the corner of the room, filled with weapons. I could have gone for a sword or a strange pipe staff but I would probably have stabbed myself with it. Instead, I went for bow and arrow and I'm so glad I did, as I'm getting a lot better at it.

It's the weapon I head for now, picking it up and smiling as I pull on the string. I'm not perfect with it yet, it'll take a few more months at least for that, but after I've warmed up I practice with this weapon for the rest of the day. Adelina said every weapon in the room is bound to come up in the arena.

I put the bow down regretfully and instead set off on my early morning jog. If I don't go now, I'll never go because I'll just put it off.

I'm not confined to the house or garden; I'm allowed to run along the streets too. My morning lap is usually going up one street and down the other. It takes over an hour and I'm usually shaking by the time I get back but it's good endurance work.

This morning there's a light drizzle and I pull my hood up as I set off on my jog. It doesn't bother me; I've worked in the orphanage's gardens when there are storms. In fact it's almost welcoming to feel the cool drops of water on my face as I jog.

I've been running for about 30 minutes when I stop for a water break. I unscrew the lid from the bottle of water in my hand and I take a deep drink, tipping my head back. My hood falls back, letting my hair become wet from the rain but again I'm not bothered.

"Hey stranger" I jerk back at the voice, starting in shock. I turn to see that I've stopped by the fence of one of the houses along this street and a boy is leaning on the fence, watching me with a grin. It's the boy from the Calling that long month and a half ago. I take a long drink of water to steady my nerves, which is ridiculous. I barely know the boy after all.

"Joseph?" I ask uncertainly. He grins in acknowledgement of my correct guess and I notice he's leaning on the fence of his house. Dressed in jogging clothes and with wet hair he's clearly been training in his garden. His Mentor is nowhere to be seen but I bet he or she can't be far.

"Good to see you Marina" he demonstrates that he remembers me too. "I've seen you jog here every morning" he says. "I thought I'd come out and say hello one time" he explains. I see a curtain twitch from his house and I smile. I guess his mentor's watching us for whatever reason.

"You could join me. I'd like the company" I offer shyly. He looks back at his house and then shakes his head, almost regretful.

"I'd love to but I can't. Reynolds wouldn't let me" he says with a heavy sigh. "Got me training almost every minute of the day. Breaks aren't allowed" he adds.

I'm not offended by what he said but my jogs aren't a break at all. In fact they're very hard work for someone who's never done this kind of thing before. However I clamp my teeth on my tongue and don't contradict his statement. I don't want a fight with Joseph.

"You enjoying your training then?" I ask. He nods but I see weariness in his eyes. He must be worked hard whereas it's the opposite for me. I wonder if he knows how lucky he is to have a Mentor who's determined to help their tribute.

"Yeah it's good fun but busy" he laughs as he straightens up. He's taller than me, tall enough that my head would just brush his chin. And I'm quite tall.

"So which house are you in?" he asks curiously. I point up the way I came, but you can't see the house from here.

"In the middle" I explain. "30 minutes running from here" He nods and then sighs as though he's deeply sad.

"Wish you were closer. You have no idea how boring my neighbours are" he chuckles. I'm pleased by his light compliment and I laugh too, feeling carefree for the first time in a while. Even though I don't know him that well, he seems like a happy guy.

"Why would you say that? I could be boring for all you know" I point out. He grins, his teeth clean white against his tanned skin.

"Nah, you talk to me" he points out. "There's a young girl, Maggie, who seems terrified of me. And then the others are just too serious" he shrugs. "Whereas you're up for a chat"

I grin, a light blush on my cheeks. It's the first time I've noticed it but I'm sure it's been here for the whole conversation. In fact, I could be wrong, but I think there's a blush on his cheeks too.

"Well thanks. I haven't seen my neighbours either" I sigh. "Poor kids. Some of them are just too young" Joseph sobers up too and he nods, looking down at his clenched fists. For the first time since I met him, he looks angry. Really angry.

"I know" he shakes his head and when he looks up his green eyes are blazing. "It's wrong and-" he's interrupted by a call from his house. Standing in the doorway is his mentor, who taps his watch when Joseph looks his way.

"I guess you got to go" I say ruefully even though I want Joseph to stay. Something tells me that I won't see him for a while, that this meeting was a one-off. The thought kind of upsets me because apart from Adelina, he's the only person I've talked to in a month.

"Yeah" he seems as reluctant as me but he's going to go anyway. His Mentor counts more than a fellow Loric tribute standing in the rain.

But then what he does next is odd. He reaches out and hugs me, his arms wrapped safely around my shoulders and back. His cheek presses against mine and I can feel his warm breath on my cold neck.

I don't know if he did this because he's a nice guy but what else would it be? We barely know each other! But despite our lack of time together I feel safe as I hug him back, not wanting to let go. Not yet, anyway.

He pulls away too soon, a light blush on his cheeks. He touches my cheek, so very gently, and then turns back to the house, jogging away from me. It's as though he's in a rush and I wonder if he's embarrassed by what he did. I want to tell him that I enjoyed the comfort, the feeling of support he gave me but I don't.

I simply jog away, feeling warm where he touched my cheek and a happy smile gracing my lips. Without realizing it Joseph gave me a reason to fight; he reminded me of the good people out there, the people who matter. He showed me why it's important to fight the everyday battle with Adelina.

I go through the routine of the day with more vigour than normal and I'm rewarded with one of my arrows hitting the target near the centre. I manage to beat my record of strength work and do it quicker than I've ever done it before.

Above all, I find myself enjoying it all.

Xxx

**Stanley**

The drone whizzes towards me and I duck, bringing my pipe staff in an arc above my head. It slices the drone in two and then I'm up on my feet again, anticipating the next assault. Thankfully my fast reactions pay off as a punching bag swings down to meet me.

At the same time, Sandor has released a group of bullets that are heading towards me. I duck to avoid the bullets since they're the bigger threat but the punching bag is still racing towards me. I bring my staff up to slice it in half and I'm sprayed with sand.

But I'm still standing.

"Now you're getting it!" Sandor whoops in joy, his face shining with pride and probably sweat too. He's working harder too as he's trying to make it more difficult for me.

"Is that all you can do?" I tease and then regretting it the minute after. Teasing Sandor always ends in a concussion or a fractured bone.

Sandor doesn't reply but he flicks a few buttons on the panel in front of him. The floor under me shakes and I admit, I kind of panic. I've never experienced an earthquake before and Sandor's never demonstrated this part of the Lecture hall before.

I'm so busy trying to maintain my balance that I barely manage to destroy the drone coming towards me. I bring up my pipe staff that fortunately manages to deal with the worst of the drone but I'm still hit with a few bits of hot metal. I flinch and that's when I get hit.

I'm not quite sure what it is. It's kind of like a big metal arm punching me and then retracting. Whatever it is, I'm sent flying and I land metres away, out of breath and my body aching.

I think Sandor's given up but when the floor begins to heat up underneath me I know I have to move at once. I'm on my feet and jogging away when a mogadorian soldier appears in front of me.

I gape at the realistic qualities it has but I squash my awe down and instead focus on killing the thing. I lunge out and with a hard blow to the chest, sending it flying. I watch gleefully as it's body breaks apart on impact and it turns to ash.

I stumble forward to get off the heated floor and don't notice the last obstacle Sandor threw at me. Something snaps tight around my ankle and I'm jerked up in the air, my staff slipping out of my hand.

The heated floor stops humming as Sandor shuts down the controls before he delivers his post-fight speech. He's grinning as he swings me over so I'm close to him but he doesn't let me go. I'm dangling in front of him and I can't hit him with my staff.

"You gonna let me down?" I growl. I swipe out to try and hit a button to release me but Sandor laughs, making me go higher in the air so I can't reach a damn thing.

"In the arena" Sandor begins and I know I have to listen. This is important. "You could get anything from a volcano eruption to an earthquake to a tsunami. These won't harm the mogs but you can sure as hell bet it will hurt some Loric. And you could be one of them"

"So you're saying if I'd been in the arena just now I'd be dead?" I ask, kind of with an attitude. I guess I don't like the thought of almost dying.

Sandor sighs and nods but he doesn't look too worried by it at all. "Yes but in the real thing hopefully you'll be concentrating more"

My ankle is suddenly released and I could go crashing to the ground but I save myself with telekinesis. I've been practicing with it a lot and am a lot better than I used to be. I know I've still got a way to go but already in just over a month I've changed loads.

"Clean up for dinner and we'll talk then" Sandor tells me, patting my back lightly as he switches off the controls. I nod and head out of the room, beyond exhausted. The adrenalin that was pounding through my veins vanishes and now it takes all the effort I have to get myself up the stairs and into the shower.

The hot water pouring down into my bare skin relaxes the muscles in my back and I smile happily, probably the first time today that my face hasn't been twisted up in a grimace. I step out of the shower, drying myself quickly when I catch my reflection in the mirror.

I used to be quite muscular but skinny as well. However I've completely changed. My body's stronger and much more ripped, to my delight. My hair is a buzz cut, something Sandor did. He said that when I turn up in the arena like this I would be considered as a true warrior. Which I am.

I leave the bathroom and head downstairs, preparing for more prep talk by Sandor. But he's not there when I go down, only the housekeeper is. She smiles warmly at me as she stirs something delicious smelling in a pot.

"Hungry?" she asks kindly as I pause in the doorway. I grin at once, nodding.

"Starving" I reply. She smiles and then turns back to the food, concentrating once more. Once it became clear that I ate too much at lunch the first day I was here, Sandor decided to make dinner the biggest meal of the day. And it's the one thing I really look forward to every day.

"Sandor's in his study and dinner will be half an hour" she adds, stirring something in a pot. I nod, not sure what to do in that time. I can't stay in this house any longer because I'm starting to feel cooped up so I quickly leave the house.

I take a deep breath once I'm outside, feeling a bit better. I love training and getting stronger and better every day but I hate being inside all the time. It's nice to be outside, the wind ruffling your clothes and the light rain pattering on your face. It reminds me a bit of home.

I walk down the path to the end of the gate and I start to walk down the long street in the village. I haven't had time to think in ages and now that I'm by myself in peace and quiet, I just can't control my mind anymore.

I think a lot about my parents who must be at home and wondering how I'm doing. Of course I'm worried about them; how can they survive without my occasional supply of food? How can they survive now that I don't do small jobs for some much needed spare cash?

I think of Byscoe, my poor chimaera in the forest. He must know that I've been taken, that I was chosen for the Games. You always see some chimaera in the Calling, either as a bird or as an insect. The mogs just think they're normal animals and only the Loric can tell what they really are.

For the first time in a long time, I just wish I were back home with my mum and dad. I miss the monotony of every day life. It might have been boring, might have been hard but it was safe. And this new lifestyle? The last thing it can be called is safe.

I spot a nearby bench and I sit down there, staring down at my hands. They're covered in callouses and cuts, after being treated brutally in my training. I sigh and look away when I notice her, silently watching me.

I recognise her from somewhere, but I can't exactly remember who she is. After all, I haven't seen any Loric tributes in over a month. But she seems to recognise me because she grins when she notices me looking at her and she walks over.

"Mind if I join?" she gestures to the seat next to me. I shake my head, desperately trying to place her. Beautiful features, long thick black hair…how could I have forgotten this girl?! But I have and I think it's obvious because she smirks.

"Maddy Shore. We met on the ship and I made you drink the pink stuff" she reminds me with a laugh. Realisation hits me and I grin sheepishly, mentally chastising myself. I'm an idiot.

"Sorry" I mutter, kind of embarrassed. She laughs good-naturedly and gently shoves me arm, not seeming offended at all.

"Took one too many hits to your head?" she teases and I chuckle, starting to feel a little better.

"More like a 100 too many" I retort and she grins, her face lighting up with her smile. I'm temporarily silenced by how pretty she is and I suddenly realise how sweaty my hands are. My heart's also going way too fast to be normal.

"So, how are you enjoying your stay here?" she asks, as though this is a holiday. I kind of like her laid-back approach; it's so different from the doom and gloom you normally see around here.

"It's pretty good" I shrug. "I don't know what I enjoy more, the training or the food" I add, lamely trying to be funny. I'm so bad around girls. Luckily, she laughs and nods, her eyes lighting up. Man, it's unfair how pretty she is.

"Definitely the food" she remarks. "Thank god my mentor's been making me do some workouts otherwise I would so put on weight" she laughs, carefree. I don't know what to say to that and we both lapse into a slightly awkward silence.

No matter how cocky or badass I try to make myself appear, I'm so hopelessly clueless around girls. I only know some terrible pick up lines and I don't think they would work on Maddy, no matter how laidback she appears. So I just keep quiet and hope I don't seem like too much of an idiot.

"Anyway, got to go. Katie will be expecting me" she stands up, a little flustered and I flush, embarrassed. I've totally got to try and figure out a way to look slightly decent in front of girls, especially ones as amazing as Maddy.

"See you later" I nod, smiling weakly at her. She smiles a lot more genuinely than I did and does something very unexpected. She bends down, kissing my cheek, and then jogs off before I can say anything.

I spend the rest of the evening with a stupidly cheesy grin on my face.

Xxx

**John**

After a month of training in the hall under the house, I feel like a different person. I know I don't look that much stronger, even though I've built up some muscle, and I don't look malnourished anymore. My fighting has improved and although I won't be the best in that arena, I'll certainly be strong enough to survive.

It just depends on how long I'll survive.

But the real change is in my mind. I've grown so much more positive than I used to be. I don't wake up, thinking about what will be happening to me this time in a year. I don't think up thinking that the mogs are going to destroy me in the arena. I wake up thinking of how I will destroy _them._

Henri and I are getting on well as well. He's like the dad I never had and I think he sees me as his son. Or maybe I'm just reading too much into it. But it doesn't matter because I know we're good friends.

Things are especially tough at the moment. The Games have started for this year and it's a bad one for the Loric. It's been a week in the arena and half have been wiped out. Henri's included. His name was Jason but now he's lying in a grave, in his hometown.

We're watching a recap tonight. The mogs can watch it during the day but we're not lucky enough to have that 'luxury'. Instead we're forced to watch it during the night. And if we switch it off our families will get an unpleasant visit from some mog soldiers.

The booming anthem from the TV pulls me into the lounge, my stomach clenching in dread. I don't want to watch this at all, even though I have to. It brings back the reality that I will have to play a part in these very Games in a year's time.

I settle down on the couch next to Henri, whose face is haunted in the dimmed lights. We watch the symbol of the Capital fade away and then the show begins. The commentary runs overheard but nobody except the mogs really pays attention.

The one good thing about watching the Games is seeing the arena for this year and ruling it out for next year, my year. It's a desert this time, which is why there are more deaths than my usual. The volunteers don't have enough water and many have been dying from dehydration.

Tonight it's a special night. There's a feast going on, something the Gamemakers do every year. It's usually got something special involved, like loads of food or water or medicine and then the kids all go there to grab the luxuries. But the problem is the mogs go there too.

And the death toll is always big around a feast.

We watch as a mog girl beheads a Loric volunteer from ten feet away by throwing her axe. She picks it up again and it sinks into a girl's neck. Both Loric are dead in seconds. I wince and look away as the mog girl kills three more kids.

Five kids. Five kids killed by one mog.

But there's a bit of hope. One Loric guy sees the destruction caused by the mog girl and goes mental. He lunges after her and using telekinesis to fix her in place, snaps her neck with his bare hands. He's strong all right.

The commentators are going wild, talking about this boy as though he's a hero. They love death, even if it's one of their own. They can't get enough of it, and if a Loric fights back then it's even better.

I watch as the Loric guys loads his pack with food and then dashes away as fast as he can. But no matter how good he is, the mogs are simply better. One lunges out from a hidden rock and tackles the Loric, stabbing him in the heart.

His life pours out with blood onto the ground until he's lifeless and the mog standing over him grins, stabbing the body once more before running off to join his fellow soldiers.

"It's so wrong" Henri's jaw is clenched and he looks like he has so much more to say, but in the end he doesn't elaborate.

The programme soon ends and with a sigh, Henri sends me off to bed. There are only 10 Loric children left in the Games. Tomorrow will be the last day in the arena and then Round 2 will begin soon after.

I wonder if there will even be a Round 3 this year.

I head up to my room, going over to the window. It's a window that looks over the side of the house and I can see the house next to me. I look closer and see the girl walking by her window. She doesn't notice me, she never has, but it still gives me some comfort to see her strolling around her room.

I sigh and shut my curtains, sinking into bed. It'll be another long day tomorrow and I have to be prepared for it.

Xxx

_Explosions shake the ground and screams fill the air as the mogadorian attack begins. I see falling objects with fire trailing them, almost like comets, shoot towards the ground but when they hit they burst into flames and sound._

_I see women and children and fathers running away from their destroyed homes, trying desperately to find refuge. I see little kids, faces streaming with tears, held by their parents who are as scared as them._

_There are some Loric who fight back. Explosions of light and sound as well as hurricane force winds that batter the Mogadorian ships. But the attack was too well organized, too strong for the Loric._

_One by one the warriors begin to fall. Whether it's a piken snapping down on them or the fire from a mog blaster, they still succumb to the darkness of death. And soon there's nothing to stop the mog army advancing on those who can't or won't fight._

_But they don't. The final mog ship descends onto Lorien and the Beloved Leader steps out. He doesn't say anything but the army backs off the Loric. The mog leader grins in triumph and begins to laugh, a cruel laugh filled with hate._

_And from that day on the Occupation began._

Xxx

I wake up; sweat making my clothes stick to my skin. I breathe heavily, trying to order my thoughts, trying to deal with the pain that fills me. I look down at my palms and see red crescents on my hands where I dug my nails in too much.

I'd never had such a vivid dream before. I'd never seen the true level of death experienced on that day and never felt so angry about what the mogs had done.

I go over to the window, pacing in my wild state. I pull across the curtains, desperate to see the stars and moon of Lorien to reassure me. I begin to calm down when I see them, even though it should be a reminder of how it's not really our planet.

I begin to calm down a little when my eyes automatically go to the window of the girl's room. I'm shocked when I see a pair of deep blue eyes looking back at me, framed with thick blonde hair. We both stare at each other when she smiles, waves quickly and then disappears from the window.

I feel a grin on my face, a stupid cheesy grin that Thom would always tease me about. And it _is_ stupid because I barely know the girl since we only talked once and that was on the ship coming here. But seeing her smile at me like that has made me inexplicably happy.

And even when I go back to bed, haunted by the thought of more dreams of Lorien, I actually dream about the deep blue eyes of the girl.

And it's the best dream I've ever had.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed and see you next week!**

**Please review!**


	7. Chapter 6 - The Games have begun

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hunger Games or Lorien Legacies…**

**Hi guys!**

**Thank you all so much for the incredible reviews! I can't believe there are 92 reviews already for this story and I'm really grateful to everyone who's reviewed this story. Thank you all so much!**

**There are still lots of questions about pairings. Because I want to keep this story as close to the books as possible, John/Sarah is quite possible for the meantime but it doesn't mean it will stay that way…**

**Also, a lot of people are asking whether Marina or Maren is Katniss. They both are. I used aspects of Katniss for both of them, so Marina uses the bow and arrow but Maren is a natural hunter and she can fight. And this story is centered around the boys (Stanley, John) as much as it is around the girls.**

**Hope that helps and please read on!**

* * *

Chapter 6 – The Games have begun

11 months later

**Marina**

_Breathe in… breathe out._

My body is as tight and unmoving as a rock. My arm is drawn back, the string pressed tightly against my cheek. The target stands 40 metres in front of me, something I've never managed to hit accurately before.

I take in another deep breath and shut everything around me. I focus on the target and nothing else whilst trying to calm my mind. Nothing else matters but this.

I release the arrow and watch as it cuts through the air quickly before slamming into the target. Right in the centre of the target. Right where the heart of a mog would be.

I whoop in joy, relaxed at once at my victory. I know in the arena my targets will actually be moving so I've been practicing targets that are closer to me but move as well. But this is the first time I've hit something so far away from me.

I run over to the target, beaming in pride as I examine my work. It's right in the centre of the heart, as though someone spent ages trying to find the exact middle. I tug it out; grinning when I realize the arrow is quite deep into the 'heart' as well.

My confidence renewed, I go onto my favourite stand of the training hall. It throws moving objects out and I have to shoot at them. I select a medium-hard range and begin to relax into my favourite pastime. Arm, aim, shoot. It's repetitive but satisfying work.

It took me a while to learn how to shoot. I'd had to read a few instruction manuals before I got the idea. And then once I had the technique down, I'd spent hours and hours just doing simple shooting. I've spent about 8 hours a day in this training hall dedicated to shooting.

And as boastful as this sounds, I'm quite good at shooting now.

The stand stops shooting out the objects and I look at them on the floor assessing how many I shot and how many I didn't. 18/20. Not perfect but for someone who couldn't even pick up a bow properly eleven months ago it's amazing.

"Well done" Adelina stands by the doorway, her face framed in shadow. I spin around in shock since I didn't even know she was in here. Once the shock wears off, I swallow uncomfortably; she's never been in here since I've been here and she's never seen me shoot. I didn't even know if she knew I could.

"I've been practicing" I reply, plucking the arrows out of the objects and putting them in the quiver. With an efficiency I've learned over the months, I quickly wrap my arrow up in the right equipment before shutting the hall down.

I join Adelina by the stairs and I see guilt on her face for the first time in months. I don't know what she's going to say and I don't want to hear it. Relations between us are strained. I thought she might eventually relent and help me train but she never did once. And that hurts more than anything.

"I'm sorry" she finally says. I know at once she's going to say how good I could have been if she trained me so I stop her with a raised hand. I don't want to hear it, don't want to be induced into a panic right now. I want to enjoy my victory, my progress with the bow and arrow.

"It's fine" I say. "I may not be the best but I'm certainly better than I used to be" I pretend to be confident as I sweep past her and up the stairs. She never follows me, probably too nervous or guilty.

When I'm in my room, my confident façade cracks and I sink down onto the bed. Despite all the practice I've put in I know I'm nowhere as good as the mogs. They'll have bludgeons and spears and other vulgar weapons. Once my arrows have run out (and what if they don't have a bow?!) then I'm dead.

The truth is, I do blame Adelina. I might fool myself by saying that the past 11 months have been the best in my life. I've gotten to practice what I love whenever I want. I've eaten some of the best food and lived in luxury.

But it's all a lie. I've seen some kids in the Village and they are lethal. There's the one boy, called Stanley, who's become famous along this street. Beastly is probably the word to describe him. I haven't actually met him but I've heard he's deadly and will certainly be here until the end.

And if the Loric are like this after a year, what are the mogs like?

I put my head in my hands; glad my palms are cold against my heated foreheads. I smile as my cool palms ease the stress headache that was starting to build. I just have to convince myself that I can do this.

_You can use the bow and arrow. You have legacies. You _can_ survive._

I know there's only one cure for the bleak state I'm in at the moment. I go over to my window and crank it open, before using telekinesis to lower myself to the ground. I've got over an hour to dinner but Adelina never lets me out of the house unless it's for my run.

I use the bushes along the fence to hide myself from the windows of the house. Adelina's not standing by one and I breathe a sigh of relief; sometimes I have to wait for ages until it's clear for me to go. I look at the house once more before walking quickly across the road and heading to the house opposite.

It's Ella's house. She and I became strong friends about three months ago. She'd been training in her garden and I'd been watching her from my front garden as I'd been reading. I'd looked down for only a few seconds but then I'd heard her scream; a scream filled with so much pain it had filled my eyes with tears. She'd fallen out of a tree and broken her leg.

It was so bad bones were poking out of her leg.

I'd reacted at once. I'd been racing over there and healing her without thinking, without hesitation. I just didn't want to think of her being hurt. By the time her Mentor, Crayton, had run out she was perfectly fine and hugging me gratefully.

We'd become best friends after that.

I slip into the back garden of her house and smile when I see her and Crayton lying on the grass next to each other, reading. She calls him Papa and their bond is just so special to see, even though they've only known each other for a year. I clear my throat quietly but she turns around at once, grinning when she sees me.

"Marina!" she calls eagerly, running over and throwing herself at me in a hug. I swing her around before setting her down on the ground, giggling. It's been a few days since we last saw each other, as we've both been so busy.

"I'm not interrupting am I?" I ask softly. She shakes her head at once, grabbing my hand and pulling me to Crayton. I look down at her book and see she wasn't reading at all, she was drawing a picture. I look closer, interested; she's a fantastic artist and it's always a treat seeing her drawings.

It's of me, sitting in the apple tree in her garden. I'm smiling and eating an apple, my hand held out in protest to Ella. She'd taken a picture of me that day but I hadn't realised it was so she could draw the picture of me.

"It's beautiful" I tell her, settling down next to her. "Although I think you made me look prettier than I am" I tease her and she giggles. Crayton grins at me, before turning back to his own book.

Ella's face suddenly lights up. "I made another one for you yesterday" she jumps up and runs back to the house, a happy ball of energy.

Crayton looks at her sadly and then puts his book down. His face is serious as we look at each other for a long time. We don't want the girl we care about so much to get killed. We like each other but it's clear the girl in the middle is far more important than the other.

"I'll ally with her, keep her safe" I say at last. Crayton knows I can shoot; in fact he's helped me once or twice. Seeing other volunteers in the Village is legal so if anyone were to investigate we could just say I was inside, playing with Ella, instead of training with Crayton.

Because _that_ is illegal.

"Thank you" Crayton's face relaxes a little and I swell with pride. He clearly trusts me enough to look after Ella. "She can get the food, she's a clever little thing" he adds, as if trying to persuade me. He doesn't have to, there's no one else I'd rather ally with.

"I won't let the mogs touch her" I vow. He nods and is about to say something further when Ella hurtles out of the house, a piece of paper clutched in her hand. She must know that in a week we'll be in the Capital but right now she's so young and carefree.

"Look!" she shows me the picture and it's of me again, leaning out of my window in my house. I look sad, something I feel every day. She clambers onto my lap, using her legacy to turn into a tiny seven year old, and I kiss her hair softly.

"Thank you El" I whisper. "It's beautiful, like all your drawings" she beams with pride and links her tiny hand in mine. She looks up at me, her brown eyes huge and pleased.

"Don't be sad" she smiles. "We'll be allies in the arena and then we can draw together again in the trees" her gentle innocence makes me smile as I squeeze her hand.

I suddenly realize that my job in the arena isn't for me to live after all. I have something much more important to do. It's to help Ella survive and come back to Crayton, where they can draw pictures all day. Where she can be happy with her Papa.

"Allies forever" I promise, sealing the deal with a kiss on her forehead.

Xxx

**Maren**

One week left. One week to go and then I'll be out of here, shipped to the Capital for the mogs' entertainment. Just one week and then I may never see Katarina again. One week and I may never been get out of the mogs' hands alive.

I shake my head angrily. I shouldn't think like that, not when I've been doing so well since I've been here. My training has gone from strength to strength and I know I'm one of the best. I can scale trees in a heartbeat; use telekinesis to shoot at targets whilst fighting in hand-to-hand combat and my abilities with the sword is daunting.

There are some people who have far more reason to be nervous in comparison to me. The boy next door, Sam, may be a nice guy but he is no survivor. I know this, he knows it, but we don't say anything out loud. What's the point?

I'm pacing in the house, bored after training. It was the same as usual, me defeating all the obstacles Katarina threw at me. I didn't even break a sweat.

Yet despite my everyday victories in the training hall, I can't help but think of the mogs. How they'll be so much better than I could ever wish to be. How they'll be able to do what I can do but more. How I pale in significance next to them.

The familiar feeling of panic settles me. It's one I've had since I learned to hunt and was the main breadwinner for my family. It's the fear of not being to cope with the pressure of looking after yourself and everyone else. It's the fear of being caught any minute.

Except it's even worse now. It's the fear of being killed any minute. But there's no escaping this nightmare. In a week's time it'll be my reality.

I head to the front door, grabbing my jacket. I need to get out, get to fresh air. Katarina must sense something's wrong when she sees me hurrying from the house and she appears in the kitchen doorway.

"Maren? What's-?" she goes to say but I'm out of the front door in seconds. She calls my name again, desperately, but I'm sprinting away.

I sprint towards the very edge of the village, where I can see the wilderness in the distance. I don't know if the mogs are watching; if they'll see me running towards the bare countryside. If they do, I'm sure I'll be caught before I can get too far.

I make it past the last house, still feeling claustrophobic. I've never needed to be back home and in the woods as much as I do now. I crave the feeling of safety and security that I know I'll get in the woods.

I stop my light jog, looking back to see the houses five minutes from me. If the mogs have been alerted to my missing presence, nothing's happening. Or maybe they know I won't really go because then they'll take it out on my family.

I settle down on the ground, the fresh air relaxing me. I never realised how uptight I've been and how much I've needed this break. How desperate I've been to be free from the reins of Katarina. I love her but she's a slave driver when it comes to my training.

"This is technically illegal" I look behind me to see a boy with blonde hair and blue eyes, dresses in workout clothes watching me. His mentor stands a few paces behind and I realise that's why I was never chased by the mogs. They knew this mentor and tribute would take care of me, would follow me.

"Then you better hurry back before they punish you" my voice is biting and nasty. I don't recognise it as mine. The boy doesn't seem to mind at all, in fact he sits down next to me and I watch as his Mentor backs up some more so he can't hear us.

"I remember you" the boy says softly, a sad smile on his face. "We talked a bit on the ship bringing us here" he says. I frown and then nod, barely remembering exchanging the few words with him.

Truth is, I can't remember this boy and I don't think he really remembers me. Maybe he's just trying to be polite.

"I'm John" he holds his hand and I eye it suspiciously. He rolls his hands and puts it in his lap.

"We're not enemies" he says gently. "We're the same race and fighting for the same thing" he carries on. I frown as we both look out into the distance. I see rolling hills, small towns dotted here and there. I can see dark shadows where woods would be and in the far distance, the mountains looming over everything.

"Doesn't matter" I say roughly. "You'll probably be dead within a week anyway" I say cruelly. I expect him to react, to hurl vicious comments at me but he simply chuckles. He rests his elbows on his knees as he looks out at the same view as me.

I wonder if he sees it as a haven or unknown territory.

"Probably" he says ruefully. I can feel him looking at me through his eyelashes and I meet his gaze, not embarrassed like some people would be. Our gazes lock and I notice what a deep blue his eyes are. They're kind of beautiful.

"But if you head over there, you'll be dead in an hour" he breaks our stare and looks away, into the distance. His face looks wistful as he gazes out at Lorien. Even miserable, it's still a beautiful planet.

"No I won't" I boast. "I can hunt and I can fight. I'd survive" I reply. John snorts and raises an eyebrow at me.

"I have no doubt you could. But you know I wasn't talking about that. I was talking about the mogs catching up to you" he replies. I sigh and look down at my hands. They're covered in callouses and scars but I like them just as they are. They remind me of the hardships I've overcome.

"And they'd kill your family" he adds. I sigh in annoyance and I can see him try to hide his grin.

"I know, I know…there's no problem with dreaming" I retort. He chuckles gently and I find that unlike most people, it doesn't rub me up the wrong way. If anyone acted like this kid they would have gotten a punch by now.

Maybe it's because he's not smug that he's right. Maybe it's because he seems like a really nice guy and wouldn't boast about his victory. But I think that the reason I'm not annoyed with him is because he really does care about me.

It's not in a pathetic lovey-dovey way or anything like that, after all he barely knows me. But he cares because we're the same race and we're going through the same thing. He cares because he doesn't want to see someone suffer more than necessary.

"You know, you never even told me your name" he finally says. I smile, a tiny smile but one all the same. I look to the ground, some hair falling out from behind my ear.

"Maren" I reply. "My name's Maren Elizabeth" His eyebrows shoot up in surprise and I see amusement in his blue eyes.

"I would have thought of something much more badass for you" he chuckles. I roll my eyes in exasperation, causing a cheeky grin to stretch across his face. It's an infectious grin, one that makes me smile too.

"Why does everyone say that?" I groan. I hear an annoyed sigh behind me and we both turn to see his Mentor on his phone, looking agitated. He keeps shooting urgent looks at both of us.

"Let's go back" John encourages, smiling gently at me. "We can't stay out here forever because they'll bring the armed squad in. Henri's barely keeping them back as it is"

"Thanks John" I finally say as I get up, offering him my hand. He takes it and I pull him up with ease. I stare sadly, regretfully, at the countryside one more time before turning away.

"Lucky we were doing outdoor training" his mentor says, a little agitated. "You would have been blown to pieces by now if not for our 'mature presence'" his lips twitch at the phrase and I bet he's been trying to persuade mog generals not to kill me.

"An overreaction, isn't it?" I reply. The Mentor's eyebrows shoot up at once at that and John looks serious.

"Trying to escape before the Games is a criminal offence" the Mentor says seriously. "If you had gone 100 more metres, you would be dead and one of your younger family members would be taking your place…_without_ any training" he tells me.

I freeze, panic creeping through my veins. I didn't realise what I had done was that bad. I thought it had been obvious I wasn't going anywhere but apparently the mogs take these things _very_ seriously.

I make it back to the Village and shiver when I see a group of soldier mogs. They grimace at me as they grip my arms and I begin to fight back, not sure what they're doing. Are they going to kill me anyway?

"Don't fight! They're taking you back home!" the boy calls as he and his mentor walk back to their house. A few mogs trail them but don't touch them. Whereas I'm grabbed and hauled back to my house.

I don't struggle as I'm dragged past every mansion. I try not to let the humiliation get to me and I hold my head high as I march past the houses. I see tributes'' faces peering out of windows and I look away, ashamed to wonder what they think of me. They must be wondering why I'm such a coward.

"Stay here!" they order me as they deposit me back in my house. Katarina drags me inside, shouting at me, telling me how stupid I was. I'm not listening though because all I can think about is the pure hatred on their faces.

I'm going to be a target in the arena. Because of my stupid mistake just now, they're going to try and kill me as quickly as possible. I realise I'm shaking when Katarina sits me down, wrapping a blanket around my shoulders and pressing a mug of warm tea in my hands. But I feel cold and dead and scared. So, so scared.

What have I done?

Xxx

**Adam**

Ivan strolls into the room, a huge glare on his face. If possible, he's gained more muscle and a bigger ego over the course of the year. He walks around thinking he's already been given the award for 'Soldier of the Games', a special award for the mog that kills the most and pleases the audience the most.

He clears his throat and just to irritate him, I keep my head down and carry on writing out the report we have to do for the Games before we go in. It's all about the best way to survive a Loric attack, using battle technique and so on. Not exciting stuff but it has to be done.

"Ahem" Ivan coughs again and I look up with a calm smile. He looks annoyed and I wonder if he's really pissed that I didn't look up at once. But his agitated pacing across the room tells me it's something more than that.

"What?" I ask politely. I don't want to deal with an angry Ivan having a go at me over manners. Ivan scowls as he throws his huge body down on a nearby sofa and I can almost imagine it groaning under his weight.

"We have a problem" he almost snarls. I put my pen down and cross my arms calmly. The smallest things usually wind up Ivan and then it's my job to calm him down.

"What's wrong? Are we chucked out of the Games?" I ask, pretending to be worried. I know it's impossible but Ivan's anger must be directed towards the Games. Nothing else has mattered to him for a year, not even Dannika, the mog girl he's sleeping with.

"No" Ivan snorts, looking almost baffled, as if the thought is too confusing for him. "No, of course not" he adds. I smile calmly and then pick up the pen again.

"Then what is the problem?" I ask, trying not to laugh. Ivan's apparently just wound himself up into a mess and I'll sort it out, as usual.

"It's a fucking forest" Ivan thunders towards me and slaps down a map on the table. "A forest and a lake and a weird field!"

I look closely and see the dome shaped layout of the arena for this year. Most of it is covered in forest, but there's also space for a lake and a field, kind of a wheat field by the looks of it. It must be huge to fit so many things in.

"Why are you complaining about that?" I ask, confused. This is one of the best arenas I've seen, that's for sure. Some of them have been pretty lethal and it's been a battle even for our race to survive.

"You can't hunt them out so easily in a forest!" Ivan yells angrily. I look at the vast empty space surrounding the cornucopia thoughtfully; there's plenty of space for a bloodbath.

At the beginning of every Games, the Loric wait 60 seconds on a disk thing surrounding the cornucopia in a circle so that they can get to grips with their surroundings before the gong goes. Around the circle of Loric, is a circle of mogs. We have to wait on our disks for an extra 30 seconds to give the Loric a small advantage.

"Well, think about it" I say smoothly. "There's a lake for water, which is great for us. And you know the Gamemakers will make sure we're the ones to kill the Loric, not nature or their stupidity. We'll get loads of them to kill"

Ivan's face clears up at the name of the Gamemakers. Knowing him, he forgot about the most important part of the Games. He sighs and then sits down in a nearby chair, looking oddly exhausted.

"What else is bothering you?" I ask, concerned for my brother. He may be simple but in the arena he'll be my greatest ally against the Loric.

Ivan sighs and looks at his hands. "I don't wanna look stupid in front of everyone. My interview wasn't so good" he mutters. I try to look supportive but I can understand why he's worried. Ivan really isn't smart at all.

The interviews happen every year for the Games. A famous mog citizen, Caesar Flickerman, acts as presenter and he interviews every mog and Loric taking part. Us mogs have had them done already as we live in the Capital all year round and besides, 60 faces to remember would be impossible for the mog citizens.

The Loric come into the Capital next week for their interviews. It's very theatrical; they have an opening parade and then an interview before they have a final training session with us. I can't wait to psych out the weak ones.

"It'll be fine" I reassure him. "They edit it to make you look extra good" I praise him. He grins and then crosses his arms, looking a lot better.

"Thanks Adam" he grins. "I'll have your back in the arena cos you always have mine" it's quite touching that statement and I grin, holding up his completed report for the Games.

"Your report's been done. I made sure to put in grammar and spelling mistakes" I laugh. Ivan grins at once and takes it from me, his eyes scanning over it. He can't be reading it though; he's a slow reader.

Don't get me wrong. I'm making Ivan out to be really stupid. But when it comes to fighting and killing and battle techniques, Ivan is the best. He is lethal and determined. If there's a fighting problem that needs solving, Ivan's your man.

Which is why he's so popular amongst the leaders of our race, because he has great potential to be a general one day.

His mobile communicator bleeps next to him and he looks at the screen quickly before scowling. He types a swift reply before dropping it.

"Dannika?" I ask at once. Ivan nods and sighs, rubbing his face.

"You have no idea what a pain she is" he grumbles. "She wants a long-term commitment and all that shit, but I'm going to be in the Games soon" he grins at me. "I'll be killing and training and fighting. I don't have time for her"

I feel a bit sorry for Dannika. That's what happens when you end up to be one of Ivan's girlfriends. He sleeps with them for a while until he moves on. And it looks like he's about to move on.

"Then end it with her" I shrug, turning back to my papers. I always feel a bit embarrassed when we talk about his girls because I've never had a girlfriend. I haven't even been kissed.

"You know what girls are like, it's not that simple" Ivan scoffs. I don't reply and carry on with my writing, hoping Ivan gets the message. Surprisingly he does and he gets up, sighing heavily.

"Thanks for talking, dude. I owe you one" he pats my shoulder before leaving the room whistling. I smirk as the door shuts, back in peace and quiet again.

Truth is, I'm worried too. Not about the arena, no that looks great, but about everything else. I'm worried about the reports coming from the tributes Village, about the Loric children who are a lot stronger than normal. Nobody has ever been as strong as these guys are this year and that worries me.

What does that mean for us mogs?

Something else is also bothering me. There's been a change in Lorien. Ever since the last Games when there were only two victors, a very low number, the Loric have been looking at us with open hatred. That's not rare but the thinly veiled anger is. They're usually too scared to look at us like that.

I shiver as I continue on with my writing. This should be the best time of my life coming up but I want them over as quickly as possible so that everything can get back to normal.

Unfortunately, I couldn't be more wrong.

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**Hope you enjoyed! I can't say how weird it is to write Adam as evil...I can't wait for that to change :P**

**Please review :D**


	8. Chapter 7 - The Capital

**Hey guys! **

**Thank you all so much for the incredible reviews! Over 100! I can't believe how many there are and how amazing you are all being at reviewing my chapters. I know this sounds cliché but I really do love every review and bit of support that you give me.**

**So, I have managed to organise my time well enough for there to be an update every Saturday now, even when I'm doing my exams. :D**

**Answers to reviews:**

- **Will Ella die like Rue? No, because this series has aspects from LL too and she isn't dead in the actual series…well, not that we know of anyway**

- **Hey TheSpecterPlaywright! I do remember you and as for pairings…well I'll have to make you wait for that :P**

**Please read on! :D**

* * *

Chapter 7 – The Capital

**Marina**

The ship glides smoothly through the air, retracing the route I took a year ago. But this time, things are different. There's no longer the air of grief and despair, there's something tenser but I can't put my finger on it. It's like the mogs are worried for some reason.

All of the tributes have been separated. We were all allowed to mingle and talk this time last year but now we've been forbidden to talk to each other. I'm locked in my own private room, not allowed to go anywhere until we've landed. Then Adelina will get me and lead me away from the others.

There's a window in my small private room and I go over to the window seat, sitting down on the plush cushion. My fingers softly stroke the fabric, velvet I think. Whatever it is it's soft and calming when I'm in such a tense mood.

I'm nervous about seeing the Capital for the first time. I've been on school trips to the great Temple and the monument tower but I've never seen the city from above. It's ironic that I'll only get the privilege because it's a likelihood I could die there.

I see the first hint of the Capital because of the woods that thicken underneath the flying ship. I've heard of this forest, Blackwood Forest, where there are threats of animals and dangerous Loric in there. I've heard that the Government wants to burn it down but have bigger issues at the moment. I wonder what could be bigger than threats of a rebel group.

The forest suddenly ends and there's a short field before I see the Capital. It's a wonder I didn't see it before, but maybe I just didn't want to. It looms up and I see towering office buildings, sprawling estates, huge parks and long rows of shopping streets. I gasp as I inch closer to the window that allows me to see outside. The buildings are odd shapes and all made out of this thick concrete, but they're strangely beautiful.

And there, right in the centre of the city is the Temple of Setrakus Ra. The temple used to be called the Parthenon and was used to worship our planet Lorien. But now it's been corrupted and is no longer a pearly white, but a dark grey, bordering on black. The Monument Tower looms up next to it, impossibly tall, and reminding everyone of Lorien's defeat.

Stretching from the Temple of Setrakus Ra is a mile long promenade, surrounding on both sides by two tall rows of seats where the mogs will be sitting. It's where the volunteers parade the night before the interviews. I'll be doing that tonight, something I'm dreading. The whole world will be watching.

As we approach the training centre I manage to get a glimpse of the front of the Temple better. It's been raised and placed on a black marble block so that it already looks bigger and grander than it used to. But in the block of marble, a small seating area has been cut into it. I see a speaking pedestal and I release that's where Setrakus Ra will make his speech tonight. Directly under the pedestal is the seal of the Capital and with the Temple looming up behind the seating area, it looks terrifying.

Nobody could defy a Capital that looks like this.

The ship races over the promenade and begins to slow as it approaches the Training Centre. We land slowly, ending with a slight bump as it hits the roof of the Centre. My door is opened at once and Adelina stands there, looking very serious. She's all business for once and I wonder if she's trying to make up for what she's missed out on.

"Let's go" she grabs my arm and marches me down the corridor of other mentors and Loric. All the mentors are avoiding eye contact and I get a sinking feeling in my stomach. What's going on? I decide it's because nobody can bear to look at anyone else seeing as most of us will be dead soon.

Adelina leads me out of the ship and then into the elevator. Most of it's a blur: the waiting for a turn, the elevator ride… I'm not focused on much at all, just the concrete building that is the last place I'll be before I'm shipped off to die.

Five minute later and I'm waiting in the bare room that's my temporary make-up room. It's where my prep team will get me ready to see my stylist, who will be taking care of every outfit I'm wearing until the arena. I won't be able to go to the apartment where I'm staying until the parade is over.

"Do everything your stylist tells you" Adelina finally breaks the silence as she wraps her arms around me. It's the biggest show of comfort she's given me ever. I know after today I won't see her as she'll be going back to wait for her new Loric. I'll be alone from now on.

"What if it's dangerous?" I ask nervously. She laughs softly and kisses my cheek.

"It won't be" she smiles fondly but there's pain in her eyes. "Trust me, trust him Marina" she touches my cheek and then leaves the room. That's the last time I'll see her and she can't even say goodbye. I try to blink the tears away from my eyes as I compose myself.

And then my prep team enters.

Xxx

"She's going to be perfect!"

I've never felt so violated in my life. I'm standing naked in the bare, clinical room as the three people that make up my prep team walk around me. I'm being poked and prodded by these three people, as they talk amongst themselves about my body.

"Look at this face" one of them coos, cupping my face in their hands. Three faces appear in front of mine, alien but not unfriendly.

They're Loric, who have gone 'wrong'. During the invasion, they didn't resist the mogs; in fact, some would have helped if they were that scared. The mogs therefore granted them rewards by giving them their jobs back and letting them live in luxury. Over time, the Loric would have become accustomed to this new lifestyle, would have loved it, and turned their allegiances to the mogs. And then they would have been made into prep teams for the Games.

I detest them.

"We can have so much fun!" one squeaks in that stupid, clipped voice the mogs have brought to Lorien. I refuse to say anything and simply bite my tongue again.

"Now all the hair's gone you look Loric!" another chirps, a woman. They all burst out laughing and I try not to glare too much. Having my skin waxed was _not_ fun. It was like a paddling all over again.

"Let's get her hosed down and then she can see Hector" the third says. My ears perk up at that, interested. I'm meeting my stylist after this, so this Hector guy must be him. The thought of being dressed by a man terrifies me, even though it's really stupid. I guess I'm just really shy.

I'm scrubbed down with a weird, rough scrub thing and then warm water is gently hosed over me. Afterwards they rub some cream on my sore, red skin and it feels a little better. Not wonderful, but bearable.

I've barely pulled a robe around my body before one of the Loric grabs my arm and leads me into the other room. The door shuts behind me and I'm left in the room alone.

Well, not quite. There's a man sitting on the couch, a bottle of something in his hands. He's in his fifties with a kind face, but anyone who drinks alcohol puts me on edge. It makes them illogical and not themselves.

"Ah, Marina" he smiles when he sees me enter. He stands and gestures to the couch opposite him, not seeming that bothered. My knees are shaking as I go to it where I sit nervously, my hands clenched in my lap.

The room is perfectly furnished in some of the most expensive pieces of furniture, of course, and there's a bowl of chocolates on the table in front of me. Hector leans forwards and grabs a handful, popping them in his mouth. I look at him closely and realise he's Loric, but not the ditzy traitorous ones I just met. He must have a reason to work here as well, just like the Mentors. Maybe the mogs have someone he loves and he has to do what they tell him.

I'm very conscious that he's watching my every move, his eyes running up and down my body. Not in a way that someone starving looks at a piece of meat, no, he looks at me like I'm a blank canvas and he's an eager artist about to begin a masterpiece.

"You'll do" he settles down. "You'll do very nicely" he grins at me and I relax a bit. He's known that he's going to design for me for a year but I still wanted his approval. He's got such a friendly attitude about him that I feel at ease, even if he is drinking.

"What's the theme?" I manage to squeak out. He grins and takes a glug from his bottle. I furrow my brow and I think he notices my look of disapproval but he doesn't say anything.

Tributes are paired up for the chariot ride around the city and each pair is given a theme. They're usually the same every year but every stylist puts their own twist on things. One year, a stylist took the theme 'Nature' and made the volunteers wear only special body paint to make them look leopards.

It had gone down fantastically.

"Water" my stylist grins at me. "Which I've interpreted as the sea"

I share a grin too because it's like fate. Being called Marina and living so close to the sea has always allowed me to have a special connection to the sea. Pair that with my legacy of breathing underwater and it's perfect for me.

"So, Marina" Hector beams and I think he might have had a bit too much to drink. But I get the feeling that his true genius only comes out with a bit of alcohol. He leans forwards, catching my hands in his and I see true excitement in his eyes. His excitement is infectious and I find myself grinning too, even though he could put me in something truly terrible.

"I think I have the perfect outfit for my Marina of the Sea" he grins as he goes to fetch a dress cover hanging on a peg on the wall.

Five minutes later and I'm wearing a long dress that covers me from my neck to my feet. The bottom layer is a dark midnight blue shift made out of silk or satin, I'm not sure. It's got tiny straps and a square neckline. But that's not the best bit about the dress.

Over the dark shift are gossamer layers of different blues. The top layer is the most beautiful white gossamer and every layer underneath becomes darker and darker until it gets to the midnight blue shift. The layers of fabric wrap over my shoulders like short sleeves and then wrap around my waist where a silver belt holds them there and finally, they fall in light wisps to my feet. Most of my hair has been left loose but he's plaited a few and intertwined ribbons into the plait.

I stare at Hector puzzled. "I get the sea reference with the blue, but why all of this dress?" I ask. Although it's beautiful, I don't really get the layers of fabric and different colours.

Hector smiles, a mixture of a madman's and a genius' grin. He places a small fan and then a mirror in front of me, not answering my question. He switches the fan on and steps back, grinning proudly.

I gasp in wonder. Because now the design makes sense and it's perfect. The breeze created by the fan wafts the fabric around me (apart from the midnight blue shift) and the layers fan out around me, surrounding me. They flutter in the breeze and as I look at myself, I see the sea. The dark depths and then the lighter layers of the ocean and then finally on top, the foam capped waves, all in the fluttering layers of material.

I imagine myself riding the chariot, my arms outstretched as I ride down the promenade. I imagine the breeze creating this same affect, added with the darkening sky and mysterious lightning they use. Paired with the partner in my chariot I would be regal, royal, untouchable.

I would literally be the Queen of the Sea.

Xxx

**Stanley**

"This is it"

I never thought saying goodbye would be quite so hard but it really is. I feel like an emotional wreck, barely keeping myself together. Even saying goodbye to my parents hadn't been as hard as this.

It had been hard leaving the house I'd grown to love and the Lecture Hall where I became the Loric I am now. The last drive in the pod towards the ship had been equally as hard because both Sandor and I aren't good at saying things when we're emotional.

But this, this is the worst goodbye I've ever had to say. Sandor stands in front of me, trying to hide the pain in his face but we both know it's there. My fists are clenched as I prepare for the stylists to enter and do their damage.

"You've always been the best" Sandor claps my shoulders, his jaw as clenched as my fists. "You'll be fine, more than fine, you'll be great in there and I'll see you afterwards"

If your tribute survives Round 1, the Mentor Cepan is allowed some more time to train with them. That usually requires the Mentor to move to the Capital for the duration of the Games whilst the current tribute back in the village gets a temporary Mentor until the other one can return.

"I'll see you soon" I promise and Sandor smiles. It's a small tight smile that shows just how much he must hate this moment. He leans forward and surprises both of us by giving me a hug. I think I surprise us more when I return it.

"Make them pay" he says, before the door's thrown open and my prep team enters amidst squeals and laughs. My eyes meet Sandor's for one last time and then the door shuts on him and I'm left alone with them.

I hate every minute of preparation. They strip me naked, which is enough to get some vicious glares from me, and then scrub me all over in this foul smelling soap. I'm hosed and waxed, _waxed, _all over and by the time they're done I'm stinging and angry.

Not a good combination.

"Your stylist will be with you in a moment" they tell me before leaving in a flurry. I'm glad they've gone because any traitor makes me want to lash out in anger. Especially those who have nothing but fashion in their head.

Don't they realise that the race they love so dearly is killing one of their own?

"Hello Stanley" the door opens and I think my mouth nearly drops open. I was expecting one of those gorgeous stylists that they often show on TV, the ones they always manage to pull out to parade about because they're so stunning. There's one I used to have a crush on, Prya, with her thick brown hair and gorgeous body.

But no, my luck is not that good. In fact it's pretty shit to be honest. In walks a 60-year-old woman who looks like a nice, friendly grandmother. I wouldn't be surprised if she were blind or something.

"Hey" I reply, really not impressed. Do the Game makers want me to look stupid? Probably. I sigh but try to fix a smile on my face instead of grimacing all the time. I should try and be nice to the people who want to help me.

Even if they'll end up making me look stupid.

"You looked different in the picture but no matter. You'll be perfect" the woman beams as she passes me a towel that I tie around my waist. I feel more comfortable around her once I'm covered up. She smiles happily at me, genuinely pleased to see me. She knew she was styling for me ever since she was given me a year ago. But it seems I'm even better than she expected.

"Although, we might have to loosen out the clothes a bit" she murmurs. My eyebrows shoot up and she laughs gently, rubbing her hands together eagerly.

"Yeah, I've put on muscle" I shrug. "What did you expect?" I don't mean to sound like an ungrateful brat but after those three Loric traitors have been scrubbing at me for hours on end, my patience has worn thin.

She simply smiles gently and then leads me through to another, much nicer, room. It's spacious and has a few chairs and tables, covered in food. I, of course, go and fill a plate up at once before joining her at some chairs.

"Right, we need to discuss your outfit for tonight" she says, a glint in her eyes. She has some papers in front of her but she doesn't show them to me. I wonder what they are and then I get it. They're designs of my outfit.

"What's my theme?" I ask at last, hoping it's a good one. I really don't want 'air' because what can you do with that theme? It's as rubbish as the theme of 'flowers', which did come up one year. They got rid of it after that.

She smiles and leans back in her chair, crossing her legs. Really, she's very old for a job like this but if she's still got the job, then who am I to doubt her? The mogs do like glamour so she must do a decent job.

"Strength" she grins and I do the same at once. This is a lot better than I could have hoped for. I can go into the procession looking like a warrior and not some happy, waving Loric dressed in a flower costume.

I can show them what I'm made of.

Xxx

**Maren**

I sit in the bare room, shivering slightly as I wait for my stylist. He or she's late, and I've been left here with my thoughts and tears. I wanted to shed them earlier when saying goodbye to Katarina but then my prep team came in and I couldn't.

_"You've always been the very best, Maren. I know you can do this"_

I sniff and wipe my nose on my silk robe. I don't care about ruining it, since the Capital is effectively ruining my life and my family. I look out of the windows, wishing I were back in the woods. I don't know how many times I wished this but it's getting worse and worse every day.

_"You can do this…trust me, you can"_

I'm not looking forward to the procession tonight. I'll be paraded around like an animal waiting to die, which I guess I am in their eyes. I'm not looking forward to getting dressed up and then having to meet my partner, who I'll have to be friendly enough with.

_"You're the daughter I never had and I love you"_

I stifle a sob, biting on my fist. I _will_ see Katarina again; I just have to be patient. I have to get through Round 1 and then we can see each other again. Then I'll have to get through the other two rounds and I'll see my family again.

If I'm lucky.

The door opens, interrupting my thoughts, and I jump to my feet. A man walks in, about 30, and he grins at me when he sees me. With shaggy brown hair down, hipster jeans and a leather jacket, he's kind of hot. He grins when he sees me, coming over to shake my hand.

"Hey" he grins and then winks. I shift uncomfortably at being so close to someone I've only just met but he doesn't seem to notice. "I'm Adrian, your stylist" he adds. I open my mouth to reply but he interrupts me.

"Come right through" he says. He's kind of overwhelming and in my face but it means I don't have to talk. I shakily follow him, glad that the next room is warmer so I won't be shivering like a weakling. Adrian settles down on a chair, slumping all over it, whereas I perch gingerly on the one opposite him.

"So" he grins as he chews on a few nuts. "You are some tribute" he notes. I narrow my eyes at his statement; it doesn't sound good.

"What are you talking about?" I ask, my voice not too worried which makes me relieved. I don't want to seem weak in front of him, even if he's going to be helping me out.

"Breaking the rules of the Village" he chuckles as he shakes his head in mock-disappointment. "It's a shame your theme wasn't fire. We could have had some fun with that"

I breathe a sigh of relief. Even though he's upset about it, I'm not at all. I hate fires, always have. They terrify me and a burn is the worst type of pain in my opinion. I can stand hunger and the pain of hunting wounds, but a burn is just horrible.

"So, tell me about yourself" Adrian grins, grabbing a glass of colourful liquid from the table in front of us. It's a bright orange and I wouldn't trust it at all.

"Why?" I ask warily. I didn't realise we had to do that as part of the procedure. My stylist grins, not seeming that bothered at all by my moody behavior.

"Because I want to make sure I've got the right dress for you" he grins, taking a sip from the glass. I want to retch because it looks and smells foul. But he seems to be enjoying it, whatever it tastes of.

"And what if you find out you don't?" I challenge him. He chuckles and then leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees.

"Touché" he grins. "I think they did give you the wrong theme. You should have been given 'angry' or 'extremely bad mannered'" he chuckles, obviously finding himself very funny. I find it in me to give him a tiny smile.

"What is my theme?" I ask. Adrian leans back in his chair, examining his glass and rink inside.

"Forest" he replies. "I don't know why, that doesn't seem…" he carries on talking but I'm not listening because I'm taken aback at how _perfect_ it is for me. I'm no fire girl or water girl or a girl suited to the theme of strength. I live and love the forest; there's nothing else for me.

"It's perfect" I interrupt and Adrian's eyebrows shoot up. He grins teasingly.

"Why? You a tree hugger?" he chuckles. I shake my head impatiently and then look around, making sure there aren't any cameras in the room. Sure enough there are none and when I look back at Adrian, his eyes are keen and intense.

I was going to tell him why it was such a perfect theme but then I just don't trust him. It took me a while to tell Katarina that I was an illegal hunter so there's no way I'm going to tell this guy. I simply lean back and shrug.

"I grew up near a forest" I lie. His eyes flicker, like he knows I'm not telling the truth, but he doesn't say a thin. He simply purses his lips thoughtfully.

"Good enough a reason" he downs his glass in one and then stands up, clapping his hands together. "Although, I still don't think it's the right theme" he frowns, going over to the dress bag. He unzips it and then makes me close my eyes, while he dresses me. I feel horribly awkward but no matter how annoying this guy is I know he's more into his styling than the naked girl in front of him.

He guides me over to the mirror and I can feel how excited he is, by the way he grips my hand. I take a deep breath and open my eyes.

I was expecting something mediocre to tell the honest truth, because 'forest' is a terrible theme in comparison to some others, even if it is perfect for me. It sounds good and all, but there's not much you can do with it fashion wise. I also didn't think Adrian would be that good of a designer.

I was so wrong.

The girl in front of me is like a forest nymph, a being from the woods. I'm barefoot and dressed in a long, beautiful dress. There's a corset around my torso but after that the material turns soft and wispy, falling to my feet. It's a mixture of greens and browns but the colours are an exact copy of those that exist in the woods. My hair is loose and floats around my shoulders, nothing done to it. My make-up is muted and I look like a true being of the forest.

I am understated yet I know I will stand out too.

"So" Adrian grins at me. "You ready to show what you got? You ready to show them they can't beat us?"

I suddenly decide we could be a very good team.

Xxx

**John**

A gentle cold breeze wafts through the huge hall, making me shiver as I stand in my costume. I'm waiting to get into my chariot with my partner and then we'll be off, starting on the long parade to the temple, where Setrakus Ra will address the nation. Once his speech is over we'll circle back down the promenade and then enter the training centre once more.

Most of the other volunteers are here, waiting to go just like I am. Like everyone else, I'm taking in the other outfits as well as noticing the roar of the crowd waiting to see us. _Begging _to see us. The audience is desperate to see the Loric sent for the death.

I think back on my goodbye with Henri. His face had been cold as he'd tried to contain himself but I knew better. Just like every year, he'd grown to love me as a son and now he had to let me go. But this time I'm going to try and get through Round 1 so I can see him again.

I look over at my partner, a blonde haired girl with a sarcastic grin. We're pretty similar in looks and features, which is why we were paired together. With the theme of darkness, we've both been dressed in these black outfits: a long dress for her and a dark suit for me. It's not one of the most creative outfits or themes but it doesn't really matter so much. The interview tomorrow will be the one that makes an impact.

I watch as a nearby boy and girl get into their chariot. With the white horses and blue waves painted on the side, their theme is clearly water. But it's the outfits that stun me. They look like the royal family of the sea, beautiful and regal. I look away, jealousy bubbling in me. Already they've got a better head start.

Of course, there are tributes with terrible outfits here. The theme of light has really gone down badly with two poor tributes dressed in white outfits. It looks kind of tacky and with their pale skin, they just look washed out.

I'm looking around, appraising all of the other volunteers and their themes when I see her. The girl who lived opposite me in the Village. The girl with the blonde hair and the smile like beauty and light.

There's no doubt what theme she got. Beauty. Her pink dress is sprinkled with diamonds and there's a silver tiara settled in her long wavy hair. But it's just her natural beauty that is what's carrying the theme along, and without a doubt she's the prettiest girl in the room. Maybe in the whole of Lorien.

She sees me looking so of course I look away at once, humiliated. My partner smirks as she climbs onto the chariot and I scramble up next to her, trying to straighten my suit. Our chariot is completely black, as well as the horses. Our stylists didn't have to worry about creativity it seems.

There's the sound of a trumpet and then the anthem of the Capital plays. There's a roar from the crowd as the first chariots go out and then mine moves forward.

"Smile for the cameras, handsome" the girl next to me smirks, just as we emerge from the huge hall. I don't have time to reply or even look at the girl because then I'm overwhelmed in the noise.

The roaring of the crowd almost deafens me as it goes on and on and on. They cheer and scream as more and more tributes are revealed to the world, dressed in all our glory. The audience throws roses and money down onto us, a few bouncing off my suit. They're mad in their joy for more killing.

I grip onto the chariot's side as we race along at a good speed, approaching the temple and the seats where Setrakus Ra speaks to us all. From this low on the ground it looms over us, making me feel insignificant and weak.

Maybe that was the idea.

The girl next to me is playing up her role, cheering and waving at the audience as we trot along. I can see the chariot ahead of us and I notice for the first time, the huge guy that intimidated me when I first saw him. His theme must be strength or fighter or something along those lines because he's dressed like the warriors of old we used to have: gold breastplate, sword strapped to his back and other bits of armour on him. He looks terrifying.

Our chariot comes to the end of the promenade and the row of seats either side cuts off. The horses pulling our chariot are perfectly trained and they begin to go around the huge fountain in the courtyard before the great looming foundation of the temple. We trot along, the crowd still roaring until we stop in our place, waiting for the other tributes to position themselves.

A few minutes later and we're all positioned, waiting for the speech. I release now the excitement is over how tense I was and how I sweating horribly in this suit. My jaw was clenched the whole time and I relax my body a little, feeling horribly stressed and wound up. The girl next to me is still grinning.

"This should be a load of shit" she whispers to me with a grin as Setrakus steps up. I'm stunned at her bluntness but again I don't have time to say anything as Setrakus begins his speech.

I admit, I don't listen too much. I'm still too wound up from the chariot ride and seeing the tributes here in the same place terrifies me as it's so _real_ now. There's no more play fighting in the training room, this is it.

"Let the 14th Annual Games begin!" Setrakus roars as he finishes off. "Let the odds be _ever _in your favour"

The crowd goes wild at that and then the horses lurch off, making me clutch madly at the chariot. The girl next to me laughs, not nicely and I grit my teeth, really hating this whole damn experience. I almost collapse with relief when we make it back into the hall of the training centre.

"You did it" my stylist, Prya, helps me down from the chariot, grinning happily as she leads me to my room. We have to go up by an elevator first though and we wait in the queue for them.

"So, tomorrow you'll have the interview so we'll be working together on things to say and what to expect" Prya tells me. I didn't realise the stylist covered as a mentor but I guess since ours have gone back to their home, that's to be expected. "And then the day after, it's group training with the mogs as well"

I nod, already knowing this. Henri gave me the briefing before I came here. My throat tightens at the thought of my mentor, the one who I've grown so close to. I can't imagine him back home with somebody else and watching me on the screens, praying I won't die.

I'll make him proud.

It's our turn to go in the elevator and Prya and I head in. Just as the doors shut, a hand shoots through to stop the doors from closing and then an older guy of about mid 20s swaggers in, followed with the beautiful girl from opposite me. The girl I just can't stop thinking about. I see she's got her nametag on, as we're supposed to.

Sarah. Her name's Sarah.

"Hey" she smiles kindly at me as Prya greets the guy. The way they chat with a problem shows that they know each other well. I find myself pushed to the back of the elevator with Sarah next to me.

"Hi" I whisper, a little nervous. She's even prettier close up and the way she's smiling at me…oh man, it's so pretty it should be illegal.

"You did well out there" she says as the elevator shoots up in the air. We must be on one of the higher floors. I blush as I smile at her, our eyes meeting and then flickering away.

"You noticed me?" I can't help but ask. She laughs softly as she gently touches my arm, and I could melt. She's perfect.

"Sure" she smiles teasingly. "You're the guy who keeps staring at me" she jokes. I freeze and I'm sure my face goes an even brighter red. She laughs and shakes her head, her hair bouncing around her face.

"I was joking" she reassures me and I relax, grinning uneasily. The elevator begins to slow and I think it's her stop, not mine.

"It's not my fault when you're dressed like that" I reply and then beat myself up for sounding so horribly cheesy. But she's seems to like it, blushing a little and smiling happily.

"I hope we can see each other again before the arena" she says quietly so our talking stylists can't hear. "It'll be nice to talk to someone who understands"

Before she replies the doors slide open and her stylist struts out, leaving Sarah to follow. She smiles at me before she goes, and I manage a grin in return. To be honest, it's a wonder I could even talk at some point during the conversation.

"Who was that?" my stylist sidles up to me, a grin on her face. I think the blush on my face has tipped her off that I like Sarah a little more than other girls but I try to hide it with a shrug.

"Nobody important" I reply as we zoom up in the elevator towards my floor.

Through the glass elevator and shaft I can see the glowing Capital in all it's glory, shining in the night sky. I can see the temple of Setrakus Ra, bathed in the red glow of the lights around it. I can see the promenade I paraded down, completely empty now. I can see the Monument tower, looming over the Capital.

And I can also see the huge party in the centre of the city, celebrating the imminent death of the tributes.

* * *

**Ok, so I had a girly moment with Marina and Maren's outfits…Sorry :D Also, if anyone's wondering, the sarcastic blonde girl who shared the chariot with John was One/Hannah. **

**Please review! :D**


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